Destined
by writerspassion18
Summary: Draco didn't know what the consequences of his actions would be, but as the magic surged from his fingertips, up his arms, and to the rest of his limbs, he knew it would be nothing good.
1. A Witch and Her Potions

_**May 1710**_

 _It was on hazy, humid nights like these that young Cornelius Malfoy couldn't sleep. The breeze filtering through his window did nothing to prevent the sweat covering his body and it made him feel dirty. He had spent two hours in a large bath being tended to by the maidens of Malfoy Manor only to be defiled and betrayed by his own body during the night. A horrendous waste, if he didn't say so himself. He could always rouse the maidens and have another bath. Not only would it provide a bodily comfort, it would provide a_ _ **bodily comfort**_ _. Cornelius' smile was wider than his mouth could naturally allow and he slipped himself out of bed. He picked up his tailor-made wand –a mahogany-wooded vessel with a phoenix feather –lit its tip and traversed the ancient halls of Malfoy Manor._

 _It was unheard of for a Malfoy to have to retrieve anything himself. Every member of the Malfoy family had a nighttime staff; someone to stand within the bedroom of said Master or Mistress in case one awoke to some sort of need. Cornelius on the other hand was unconventional and found it unsettling to have someone gaze upon him as he slept. Not to mention he usually gained a good night's rest; lacking in tosses and turns, night terrors, or any sort of need. But tonight was the one night where he had a desire and was therefore forced to fulfill it himself._

 _Another unprecedented thing for a Malfoy was to know where the servants' quarters were. Not a single Malfoy in all their history knew where they were located, but, once again, being the mischievous child that grew into the more mischievous man, Cornelius knew. He often found himself wandering about the Manor as a child when no one was watching him and he stumbled upon where those who doted on his family lived. The location –a long, sun/moonlit corridor well beneath the Manor –had been committed to memory. Reasons for taking unscheduled trips to the forbidden fortress varied over the years. As a boy it was to cause havoc. He had come into his magic early and had been given a wand. That wand had been used to make maidens wonder why the window that had just been closed had been opened again. It ruined previously clean linens and clothing and broke precious objects. As he grew older it was to satisfy his growing lust as he became a frequent voyeur. Eventually he became less of a voyeur and more of a participant. He was never allowed to partake in the company of the fine female specimen of his social class unless it was his betrothed. Seeing as he wouldn't meet his betrothed until the following month on his eighteenth birthday, he had ravished plenty of his maidens._

 _And so, as he finally made it to the servants' quarters in order to procure a bath and subsequently a late night rendezvous, Cornelius halted his steps. A familiar odor had reached his nose and he was utterly taken aback. He sniffed the air, then taking long regal strides until he found the source of the smell. He eventually found the bedroom –three stone walls, one window, and well-made door out of oak –of a maiden who had only been in Malfoy possession for a month. Cornelius opened the door and stood in the doorway, his eyes widening at the sight before him._

 _He had only seen this maiden once and knew her name to be Matilda. She had long, wavy, and messy brown hair and dark brown eyes to match. She wore what the other maidens typically slept in –an off-white nightgown sown together from old linens none of the Malfoys wanted anymore that stopped at the ankles. What had caused his eyes to widen wasn't at her beauty –because she was indeed very pretty –but at the fact that she was hovering over a small cauldron. A tiny fire was lit under it, fueled by grass and other bits of shrubbery and old parchment. She was throwing in various ingredients and stirring._

" _What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Cornelius suddenly demanded. Matilda looked up in surprise and gasped. Her face morphed into absolute fear and horror as she glanced from her cauldron and to the young master of the house._

" _I…I…I am_ _ **sorry**_ _, Young Master Malfoy." Matilda babbled. "One of the maidens is sick. I only wanted to make something to ease her discomfort. I am most terribly sorry."_

 _Cornelius stared at the sobbing girl in front of him. He fully entered the room and closed the door behind him. He didn't speak again until a silencing charm was in place. "Only muggles are indentured servants here." Cornelius said firmly. "Are you not of muggle lineage?"_

" _Indeed I am, Young Master Malfoy." Matilda nodded, her eyes not daring to meet his. "It has always been so within my family. A muggle father, a muggle mother, and a muggle offspring. I am a muggle."_

" _And yet you are adept at potion-making." Cornelius pointed out. Matilda let out a soft sob yet again and rubbed her hands anxiously on her thighs._

" _I did not know I was partaking in witchcraft. I merely wanted my fellow maiden to become well."_

 _Cornelius took in the young girl crying on her knees. He eyed the potion to her left and noted both the color and the texture. For a muggle, her witch instincts were exquisite. He had no doubt that the sick maiden would recover from whatever ailed her. That is if the potion was continued…_

" _Finish it."_

 _Matilda slowly looked up at him with her brows knitted in confusion. "P-pardon?"_

 _Cornelius motioned towards the potion and then conjured a stool for him to sit himself on. He sat in the corner of the young maiden's room with a regal stance and ordered her yet again. "The potion, finish it."_

 _Matilda blinked twice and after making sure his request was sincere and did as she was told. Cornelius watched in awe as she continued tossing and pouring various items into the cauldron. Most of the ingredients, he noticed, came from nature –the tails of small creatures, an eye or two, perhaps saliva. Some, he scoffed to himself, came from the private stores of the Malfoy Pantry._ _ **A bold girl…**_ _Cornelius thought. He continued to stare as Matilda put out the flames under the cauldron with pats of her hands. Using the bottom of her nightgown to hold the hot cauldron, she poured its contents into four vials and corked them. He saw that they, too, came from the Malfoy Pantry._

 _One of the vials she held in her hands and then frightfully spoke to Cornelius. "M-may I give this to her, Young Master Malfoy?"_

" _Yes, you may."_

 _Matilda rose to her feet with the potion in her hand and exited the room. Cornelius waited. Less than five minutes had passed before the young girl came back into the room. She sat beside the cauldron as she had been sitting previously and cupped her hands on her lap._

" _The maiden?" Cornelius inquired._

" _Color ran into her cheeks the moment the potion was drunk." Matilda answered, her gaze towards the ground. "I believe she will be well by morning, Young Master Malfoy."_

" _How did you know what ingredients to use? How did you know that this would work at all?"_

" _I did not." She answered softly. "But, if I may be honest, it felt like the right thing to do."_

 _Cornelius suddenly rose from his seat, the sound of the stool screeching loudly in his ears. He didn't fail to notice Matilda's flinch and he walked over to her. With a gentle bow of his body, he lowered himself to her and lifted her chin so that he could look into her face._

" _Only a witch can do what you have done tonight." Cornelius told her. "The fact that you have done this with no prior training shows that you are a gifted one. Tell no one what you are able to do."_

 _Matilda nodded. Cornelius left her room and proceeded to take the long journey back to his bedroom. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he wouldn't have believed it. He had heard tales of muggles having magical skill, but truth be told he thought it to be purely stories. He then thought of the monstrosity that had to have occurred for her condition. Magic ran in blood. Somewhere in the maiden's family history a wizard must have lain with a muggle woman or vice versa. Perhaps the child was magical. Perhaps not. It could have remained dormant until the magic was manifested in the young muggle Matilda who had mastered a potion he himself had found difficult to properly concoct._

 _It was unimaginable. A truly gifted witch indeed._

* * *

 **May 2004**

" _Merlin, Granger!_ What the hell did you put in this thing?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she slapped her palm to her forehead. When she removed her hand she saw the blonde git wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and wearing a most sour expression.

"Since when have you known potions to _ever_ have a pleasant taste?" Hermione asked him. She shoved the potion back into his hand and placed her hands on her hips. "Now do you want to stop seeing double or not?"

"Damn right I do; seeing one of you is punishment enough." Draco said as he took a deep breath and drained the potion's contents. Hermione stared at him as his face contorted with disgust. She kept her smile hidden as she took the bottle from him and set it on her workstation. For the first time in his life, his face had finally reflected his terrible personality. Had it been better she could actually find herself attracted to his smoky grey eyes, pearl white smile, and his strong, chiseled features. Too bad.

"Feel better yet?"

"Yeah," Draco grumbled. He set his head back on the chair's headrest and sighed. He tried his hardest not to come back injured when out in the field for two reasons: not to see Hermione and not have to digest whatever concoction was sitting in her cupboards. Unfortunately he was in her Healing quarters at least twice a week. And yet, despite his grumblings he found himself antsy if by chance he made it one work week without bodily harm. He was so used to other Aurors shunning him and leaving him to his own devices that it was nice to talk to someone –even if it was _Granger_ of all people. An offensive comment here, a glare and sarcastic retort there, a rebuttal, an exasperated sigh and scowl, and then a short-lived calm before the next storm. That's how the exchanges went with them repeatedly and it exercised both his wit and capacity to tolerate others. A win-win situation if he didn't say so himself.

"Can I go now?"

"No, not yet. A quick test first."

"Geez, Granger, I see one of you now. _I'm better_."

Hermione arched a brow and then pursed her lips. "Mhmm, then look at this and tell me what you see."

Draco groaned as Hermione began rummaging through her drawers for something. A second later she pulled out a large piece of parchment with a letter on it. She held it up in her hands for him to see all the while standing quite a ways from him. He stared at it, seeing only one letter, but then he blinked rapidly as his vision split in two and he saw a Hermione in both visual fields as well as the letter. He saw her knowing smirk doubly and hated her twice as much now as she set the letter aside and walked back over to her desk.

"I'm sending you home, Malfoy." Hermione said. He saw her scribbling something and then charming a note to fold itself into a paper plane and then zoom out of her door. "Your vision is okay up close, but it's downright awful from a distance. You'll be fine by tomorrow."

"You must be enjoying this." Draco huffed as he sat up and slid his legs to one side of the long chair. "Giving me orders that I'm expected to obey."

"Well, if you want to get your arse blown off because you can't see the booby-trap less than five feet away from you, then be my guest."

Draco sucked his teeth and stared at her. Yeah, she enjoyed it alright. He sighed and then got up from the chair. "I'll see you before the week is out, Granger."

"Try not to be a baby next time." Hermione called to him before he had fully exited her workroom and closed the door after him. She shook her head once he was gone and sat down behind her desk. She didn't know why after all this time she was surprised that Draco had ended up working at the Ministry. There were only so many occupations that wizards ventured into once their schooling was over. It was either one of the _many_ departments that the Ministry had to offer, as a St. Mungo's Healer, opening some sort of boutique in a wizarding center like Diagon Alley, or a teacher of some sort. Seeing as the Ministry had several outlets to serve a plethora of human abilities, it was where most wizards ended up –Draco becoming one of those very wizards.

Despite not being very well-liked, no one could deny that Draco had enviable skills. Of those skills, a wondrous knowledge base of the Dark Arts was especially helpful within the Aurors Department. He worked as part of the Extraction Division. He and his coworkers scavenged any Auror-raided areas and searched it for any unsavory and dangerous items. Hermione had once been offered a position in the same division seeing as she was keen on research and could delve deeply into the origin and manifestation of such terrifying objects that caused severe damage (or, as in Draco's case, mild harm). Hermione didn't care much for field work and was quite adamant about it. Instead she was a one-woman Healing and Research division. She healed those that got hurt –maladies that didn't require hospitalization –and did a copious amount of research on the items garnered from the Extraction Division so as how to properly handle them and prevent further injuries.

Despite being good at what he did, somehow Draco ended up in her workroom every week. It was never too serious and she was able to send him on his way within an hour. Hermione could attribute his ailments to carelessness, but he was a meticulous individual. The most dangerous artefacts were always handled with care, and yet how could he so haphazardly let his bare fingers glide over a gemstone that made his vision split in two? If she didn't say so herself, Draco _liked_ coming to see her. And it was _that_ sentiment that gave Hermione her laugh of the day.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, welcome yet again to another one of my stories! And if this is your first time reading anything of mine, hi there :D. I had a writing spree during the summer and this was one of them. Finally decided to post it. There's quite a bit of looking into Draco's family history here, so I hope it's as entertaining for you to read as it was for me to write :)

Reviews are most welcome!

-WP


	2. Malfoy Possessions

_**December 1710**_

" _I have seen the seamstresses' work on your gown for the engagement celebration." Cornelius said as he strolled around Malfoy Manor's expansive garden with his fiancée, Amelia. She was smiling radiantly as she took his hand in hers._

" _It is marvelous work." Amelia beamed. "With the amount of jewels sown onto it, it will shine beautifully. With a bit of magic it will sparkle no matter the day or night."_

" _As you wish, my dear Amelia."_

 _It would be he to put the finishing magical touches on the gown for her. Despite also being a witch, it was customary that women didn't practice active magic. No wandwork and therefore not a single spell. They were encouraged to practice potion-making, however. And even then it was only ever in healing. As Amelia continued to speak endlessly about how she couldn't wait to celebrate their pending union, Cornelius' mind was elsewhere. It was on the talented muggle witch who lived deep beneath his Manor._

 _Having piqued his interest, Cornelius had made several visits to see the young maiden over the past few months. He often brought her various ingredients and laid them out on the ground. Sitting on a stool he would sit back and give her a specific potion to make and tell her to do what felt right. Matilda was hesitant every time he asked, but she did as he ordered her to do. During her task he would prod her. He'd ask why a particular ingredient or why to crush a specific herb to a fine powder instead of cutting it. One night Matilda, full of fear and apologies at her forwardness, had asked if she could use his wand for just a moment. Cornelius was baffled by the request, but he composed himself quickly. With an incline of his head as a sign of acquiescence, he handed over his wand to her. She waved where she was supposed to, and she tapped where and how she was supposed to. Each time Matilda finished a potion, Cornelius was convinced that it was perfect._ _ **She**_ _was perfect._

 _Matilda was a rare gem and Cornelius couldn't help but be entranced by her. It was more than her capabilities as a witch, but also because she was different than any woman he had ever met. She was quiet, for one thing. He was used to chatty women (albeit not in an inappropriate sense), who spoke of everything that pleased them. What pleased them were what he now considered shallow wants and desires. Matilda on the other hand rarely spoke in Cornelius' presence unless asked a question, and even then her phrases were few. When she did speak however, it was with a soft richness that he found quite soothing. As for her beauty, it was immaculate. What flesh her nightgown didn't cover wasn't as spotless as Amelia's. It was full of blemishes, possibly from the hard, makeshift bed made out of straw and discarded cloth from the Manor's residents. Although clean in the morning, flecks of dirt littered her skin by the end of the night. Her hair was messy and ill-kempt and she looked exhausted from a long day's work. And even with all of that, Cornelius found a pretty face. It housed innocent eyes, full cheeks, and a sweet smile. What topped it all off for him was her determination. Since granting her permission to practice magic, she sought to be the best muggle witch possible. It was a pleasure to see._

 _That night after Amelia went home and the moon had been lighting up the sky for many hours, Cornelius went down to see Matilda. She sat on her bed, as she did every night, weaving pieces of grass together for entertainment. He smiled at her as he closed the door after himself and silencing the room as always. She looked up at him and paused her weaving. Her brow furrowed as she took in his form._

" _No ingredients." Matilda observed. Cornelius nodded. He pulled out his wand from inside his night robe and made his way over to her._

" _No more potion work." He told her as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I would like for you to practice with this."_

 _Matilda's eyes widened at his words and even more so when Cornelius slipped his wand into her right hand. She stared between it and his face for several seconds before uttering her next words. "You…you have been more than generous with me over these past few months. I am…most appreciative, but this…? I could not possibly… It is a line that I cannot cross."_

" _It is a line that I am_ _ **allowing**_ _you to cross." Cornelius reassured. He enclosed the space between them and stood behind her. During their times together he had yet touch her more than a single finger to her chin. It surprised her then when he placed his hands on her hips and adjusted her body to face the weaving that was now resting idly on her bed._

" _You will try a simple charm." He whispered into her ear. "It is to levitate objects. Repeat after me. Wingardium,"_

" _W-wingardium,"_

" _Leviosa,"_

" _L-leviosa."_

" _Good," Cornelius smiled, simultaneously taking in the fact that Matilda's hair smelled of fresh fruits despite its messy state. "Now say it together."_

" _Wingardium Leviosa,"_

" _Excellent. Now the wand movements. We will do this without saying the words."_

 _Cornelius encased her hand with his and raised it, consequently the wand. He moved it slowly. "Swish and flick," He told her. His cheek was pressing against hers now and he could feel the gentle hum of her words as she repeated them. Soon he slowly backed away from her, sadly letting her hand go and then urging her on. "Do it now. Say the words and do the wand movements together."_

 _Matilda glanced back at him for reassurance and then took a deep breath. She stared at her weaving, steadied herself, and went for it. "Wingardium Leviosa!" She said with the accompanying wand swish and flick. To her delight the weaving began to levitate, following the wand wherever she gestured._

" _Oh!" She squealed happily and then turned to Cornelius, completely losing concentration and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. As soon as she had done it Matilda was mortified. She let him go quickly and casted her gaze to the ground. "I am sorry. I was just so…happy to have done the charm correctly. Forgive me."_

 _Matilda handed him his wand back. Cornelius wordlessly took it from her, stowed it away, and then raised her head. "You have done nothing to be forgiven for."_

 _In a rash, albeit desired decision, Cornelius leaned forward and kissed her. It was chaste at first; something to satisfy a growing need. But soon after their lips touched, fervor leaked into their kiss and they found themselves backed onto the bedroom's wall. Matilda pulled away. However far back, she pushed her head from him despite being pinned between the wall and his eager mouth._

" _We cannot." Matilda said frightfully. "You are_ _ **engaged to be married**_ _. If you were not, this would be appropriate, but seeing as you_ _ **are**_ _, we-"_

 _Cornelius placed a finger to her lips to stifle her talking. He chuckled as he searched her face. It was a mélange of yearning as well as fear. The fear was warranted. As a promised gentleman, any infidelity would be punishable. Not for him, but for her. He didn't want her to get hurt, but he also didn't want to put an end to their passions either._

" _I am a Malfoy." Cornelius whispered onto her skin as he nuzzled his face onto her neck. "I will do as I please." He then raised his head, softened his gaze and then smiled. "So long as you let me."_

 _Perhaps it was the look in his eyes. Or perhaps it was his soft caresses. No. It was the fact that he had given her a choice. It was_ _ **that**_ _that soothed Matilda and persuaded her to let her nightgown slip off her shoulders and down to her feet._

* * *

 **December 2004**

Draco knew his Auror team was scoffing at him. They always were. While they wandered around a recently Auror-raided shoppe in Worchester Square, their hands were coated in a white sheen that served the magical equivalent of gloves. Everyone except Draco, that is. He hated the way the spell made his hands feel, not to mention they numbed him to Dark Magic. The artefacts that he and his team scavenged radiated magic. It was subtle, easily missed, but not untraceable. Despite the conceited connotation, Draco was the best at feeling these objects out. His fellow Aurors saw what they came to find. Draco sensed them.

With his wand Draco shifted debris caused by a fatal fight. Despite having moved a significant amount of wood, cloth, and glass, and was now seeing the plank wood floor, he still wasn't satisfied. There was something there, he knew it. He sucked his teeth and pointed his wand at the floor.

"Diffindo," He said and watched the wood crack up. Draco further pulled it apart with his hands and finally saw what was drawing him. It was a ring. It was a _priceless_ ring. An emerald green stone implanted in a platinum band that was also infused with gold. No, the gold wasn't visible. He didn't need it to be for him to know that it was there. On the inside of the band he saw the faint inscription, _À La Richesse_ –To Riches. It was the old Malfoy family motto before changing somewhere down the line to _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper -_ Purity Always Conquers. And next to the inscription was the letter "M," engraved in the same emerald of the jewel that the band held. With a deep swallow, Draco made sure no one was looking, picked up the ring, and slipped it into his pocket. Although the ring had only touched his fingers for a fraction of a second, he felt the magic imbedded within it enter him. It was old magic. It was _raw_ magic. He didn't know what the consequences of his actions would be, but as the magic surged from his fingertips, up his arms, and to the rest of his limbs, he knew it would be nothing good.

"Find anything, Malfoy?" A voice asked behind him. Draco tried not to look as caught off guard as he was and straightened up to his feet. He popped his collar up and cleared his throat.

"Nothing," He replied. His coworker eyed him suspiciously, but a quick snarl sent him on his way. Draco performed the rest of his Auror duties filled with an immense load of trepidation and guilt.

* * *

Once at home Draco set the ring on the night table next to his bed and began to pace his excessively large bedroom. His eyes darted to the ring repeatedly and he stood in front of it in awe. The ring had been the Malfoy family for generations. At least two centuries. It was never worn nor was it ever passed down to anyone. It simply remained in a glass case in a treasure room to be gazed upon but never manhandled.

Fifty years ago the ring had been mysteriously stolen. Now it was back in Malfoy possession and Draco now understood why the ring was off-limits to human touch. Ever since the ring kissed his flesh his mind seemed to wander. His vision would be clear and precise, just as it should be, and then flashes of a scene he had never once taken part in flashed across his face. He never saw enough to be sure of what he was seeing, but it was enough to figure out that it had to do with his family history. Each instance of a relived life Draco found himself walking through Malfoy Manor before its second, and perhaps even its first, reconstruction into a more modern look.

Draco grounded his teeth as he sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the ring. Despite his better judgement he longed to wear it. He wanted to slip it onto his ring finger on his right hand and feel the expensive gold-infused platinum. But more than that he wanted to feel the magic that had flittered throughout his body, disappeared, and yet still left indecipherable messages in his head. With a huge pull within himself he levitated the ring and put in into his top drawer. He hoped everything would be better by morning.

* * *

 **Author's note:** So, on the one hand, we have Cornelius doing something that he shouldn't do (although, let's face it, it is actually kind of sweet?), and then we have Draco discovering a mysterious and powerful family heirloom. It's all a matter of time to find out how these two things are related ;)

Hope that you're liking the story so far!

-WP


	3. Private Conversations

**February 2005**

Hermione sat at her desk with her quill busily going at it. She was writing up a report on one of the artefacts the Aurors had asked her to look into. A dastardly little thing it was. Whoever laid their eyes on the object began to run a fever high enough to kill him or her. The day that _precious_ _nugget_ was found three Aurors had tumbled into her workroom and were immediately given cooling potions to slow the fever. They were then sent to St. Mungo's to help ward off the fever completely and to see if they had any scorched organs, veins, or bones. Hermione had since worked on the stone through a one-way mirror that was also charmed to block the entrance of magic through glass. Now that the report was finished, the stone could remain locked away in a stronghold deep below the Ministry and be kept out of harm's way until a solution as to how to destroy it without dying came to light.

With a resolved sigh Hermione set her quill down and flexed her cramped hand. She heard her workroom door open and shut and she tutted at the rudeness of it. "Yes, please come in, Malfoy." She said without looking at him. "There's no need to knock or anything."

"Sorry," Draco said. He shuffled over to the long chair and tiredly lay himself upon it. Hermione accepted his apology, although surprised he'd actually given one, and finally looked up. She was shocked at his demeanor. He looked worn. The bags under his eyes were none-too-flattering and his hair was so tussled that it appeared it would never lay flat against his head ever again. Hermione pursed her lips.

"What's wrong with you this time?" She asked as she rose from her chair. Draco shifted himself on his seat and gave a guttural sigh as he rubbed his eyes.

"I can't sleep."

Hermione cocked a brow and sat on a wheeled stool that she rolled herself on to sit next to Draco's side. "You know, that's something you should see your personal Healer about, not me. I'm a _Ministry_ Healer, remember? Auror injuries only."

"Trust me," Draco said as he removed his hands from his face and set his arms at his sides. "What's wrong with me is right up your alley." He sat up then and began digging his hand into his pocket. Hermione watched as he pulled out a tiny baggie that radiated with protective charms. Inside was a ring that she was sure would fetch hundreds of thousands. "I've been having visions and dreams of things that I don't understand ever since I touched this. I need to get it to stop."

Hermione stared at the ring and then at Draco's distraught face. He looked even worse up close. She took the baggie from him and inspected the ring more closely. "Where was this kept? I haven't seen it in Lockdown."

"It wasn't there. I nicked it from a raid back in December and I've had it with me ever since."

Hermione's eyes bulged. " _You did what?!_ Malfoy, how could you do that? There are protocols! This is evidence tampering!"

Draco rolled his heavy eyes. "Spare me the speech, Granger; I know what I did. I couldn't leave it and I couldn't let the department have it. The ring is mine."

"…Yours?"

Draco nodded and sighed as he rested his head back on the chair. "It's a family ring. It was stolen long ago and, voila, there it was, hidden under the floorboard of some old shoppe."

"Why did you wait so long to come to me?" Hermione asked as she stared at the ring more closely. "If you found this in December that means you've been seeing things for quite some time."

"I thought it would go away." Draco admitted. "It was infrequent at first –the dreams and the images. But as of late they've been getting worse. The ring is cursed somehow. You've got to figure out how and get rid of it."

Hermione chuckled softly. "Thanks for the pressure, Malfoy."

Draco smirked. "I thought you thrived under pressure."

"Yes, well, doesn't mean that I like it." Hermione sighed and nodded. "I'll look into it. In the meantime I'll give you a sleeping draught. You'll take a sip before bed – _a small_ _sip_. Drinking too much could make you comatose."

Draco scoffed. "Hell, in that case I'd rather the restless nights."

Hermione smiled and patted his hand that was resting on his stomach. "You'll be fine, Malfoy. Don't worry."

Draco glanced down at her hand that was resting over his. He kept in his smile and looked up at her with his best nonchalant expression and shrugged. His air of indifference would have worked had his words matched his outward disposition.

"Whenever you're involved I'm never worried."

* * *

 _ **February 1711**_

 _Cornelius sat back in his large bathing tub, enjoying the feeling of the water charmed to the perfect temperature. Arthur, his newly acquired personal manservant, stood idly by and awaited any special orders before offering to dismiss himself._

" _I shall be needing Matilda's assistance."_

 _Arthur gently bowed himself to him. "Very well, Young Master Malfoy. And who else's assistance?"_

" _No one's."_

 _Arthur found Cornelius' request odd, he knew. But his facial expression dared the manservant to question him on it. Instead Arthur bowed yet again and went on his way to fulfill his master's task. A few minutes later Matilda entered the bath chamber. She held a cloth in one hand and an unknown bottle in the other. She walked over to the bathing tub and knelt down on her knees. Cornelius was smiling at her and she returned one as she uncorked the bottle._

" _I have had this brewed for a few days now." Matilda explained. "It will help soothe your muscles. You have complained about the tension for nearly a fortnight."_

" _You take much too good care of me." Cornelius grinned. He raised a wet hand and caressed her cheek, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. Matilda nearly melted at his touch, but soon she was edging herself away from him as she poured in the contents of the bottle._

" _We are not in my room." She warned. Cornelius shrugged._

" _No one is here."_

" _Whether here or there still does not assuage my worries." Matilda looked up at him with her familiar look of fear in her eyes and picked up the cloth she had brought in order to perform her bathing duties. "Being engaged was horrible enough. But being married is worse. Lady Malfoy will have me_ _ **killed**_ _should she find out."_

" _She will not find out." Cornelius said confidently. He closed his eyes as Matilda dipped the cloth in the tub water and began to rub it on him. First up his chest and then over each shoulder. She made sure to let her fingers glide past as well. "I would die before I let anything happen to you._

 _Matilda halted her actions. Cornelius opened his eyes and looked into her beautiful, large, brown ones. "Do you promise?" She asked in a whisper._

" _I promise. I love you, Matilda."_

 _Cornelius' promise was sealed with a kiss on her trembling lips. She returned it eagerly, and then returned to her bathing of him; choosing to also delight him in sensual pleasures that would remain within the bathing chamber's walls._

 _Or so she thought…_

 _Later that night Matilda was hovering over a cauldron Cornelius had seen fit to bring her towards the end of the previous year. It was twice the size of her other cauldron and pleased her greatly. She had various ingredients sprawled over the floor in an effort to make another soothing potion to give Cornelius the next time he requested her for bathing. It had taken her a few days to make the other, and if she worked quickly enough it could possibly be made ready sooner._

 _As she hummed to herself and waited until the potion turned the appropriate color, she heard footsteps down the corridor that eventually stopped at her door. Matilda smiled. She hadn't expected to see Cornelius tonight, but she was thrilled nonetheless. She got to her feet, smoothed out her nightgown and stood eagerly in front of the door. When it opened, her smile faltered. Lady Amelia Malfoy was standing in the doorway and she looked furious._

" _How_ _ **dare**_ _you!" Amelia shouted as she roughly grabbed Matilda by the arm and thrust her further into the room. Amelia slammed the door shut behind her and stared mercilessly at the young maiden. "You have a place to sleep! A place to eat! Clothes on your back! And how do you say thank you? By defiling the head of house!"_

" _Lady Malfoy, I –I…-"_

" _ **Don't. Lie. To Me.**_ _I saw the two of you. I_ _ **heard**_ _the two of you." Amelia laughed manically then. "He_ _ **loves**_ _you, does he? Maidens are meant to warm a man's bedside_ _ **before marriage**_ _! Certainly not after! I do not wholly blame him, however. He is a man and a primal beast at heart. But you, Matilda… You should have known better."_

 _Matilda pressed her back onto the wall until she felt her skin bruise. She was trembling ferociously, afraid of what Lady Malfoy would do. The woman, however angry she appeared to be, also seemed sad. Her eyes were watery. Amelia shook just as terribly as Matilda and she took a deep breath as her eyes scanned the floor. It was then that she saw the bubbling cauldron and her gaze snapped to the young girl's face immediately._

" _What is this?" Amelia demanded as she pointed to the cauldron. "Is the little muggle playing witch?"_

 _Despite her frightened state, Matilda was suddenly angered. She pushed herself up from the wall and balled her fists. "I am_ _ **not**_ _a muggle and I am not playing at anything."_

 _Amelia's eyes narrowed and her lips grew thin. "_ _ **What did you say to me?**_ _"_

 _Matilda imperceptibly gulped, but she stood her ground. "I –I said that I am not a muggle. A muggle cannot perform witchcraft, but I can. I do as well as any witch."_

 _Amelia's lips curled into a menacing scowl as she slowly strode over to the bravery-stricken maiden. "You are muggle-_ _ **born.**_ _A foul creature of the earth and clearly a miscreant who dares to defy her mistress as well as her station in life. Cornelius may have filled your fuzzy little head of unattainable ideas, but I came down here to break them all_ _ **down**_ _. You will_ _ **not**_ _have a life with him. You will no longer see him. You will no longer speak to him. You may no longer even_ _ **look**_ _in his direction."_

 _Matilda felt her heart breaking with every word that Amelia spoke. Tears were threatening to fall, but she refused to let the dam break as Lady Malfoy stood hovering over her. Matilda could do nothing but nod._

" _I promise."_

 _Amelia produced a low laugh unbecoming of a lady. It was ruthless, and it was sinister. "No, my dear Matilda._ _ **I**_ _promise. You see, you are not the only woman who has magical skill."_

 _Matilda watched as Amelia slowly pulled out a wand from inside of her night robe. She instantly realized that it was Cornelius' wand, and that it was held tightly in the scorned woman's hand. With a swift flick of Lady Malfoy's wrist, Matilda felt her throat open. She placed her hand there and removed it only to find it full of blood. Amelia watched as the young girl stared at her in disbelief and sadness and then crumble to the ground. She stared at the dying muggle witch and then smiled wickedly, pleased with the scene before her._

* * *

 **Author's note:** Okay, so Lady Amelia Malfoy is a bit scary, yes? It makes you wonder though, was she more upset at the fact that Cornelius loves someone else, or the fact that that "someone else" was a muggle witch? I'll let you decide that for yourself. It's also interesting that she's not supposed to know magic aside from potion-making, and yet she killed with magic so easily. So, yup, I repeat "she's scary."

Hope that you guys liked the chapter!

-WP


	4. Reliving Death

**February 2005**

Hermione had decided to work late. It wasn't out of a want to get work done, per se, but rather trying to limit the amount of nosy eyes. Seeing how the ring had affected Draco, she had decided it would be best to examine it under safe quarters. And so, at near eleven pm she found herself taking the lifts to the Lockdown Room. It was more or less a corridor rather than a room with shelves, glass cases, and sealed doors full of cursed items. Despite the protective spells Hermione felt her body tingle with radiated magic. It unnerved her, but not like other people. Some became physically ill when coming down here. Others downright collapsed. The unknown reason why she was so capable to walk down such a dangerous hallway with only a slight tingle made her feel proud.

Hermione passed the room with the one-way mirror she had been in only days before. Tonight she would go somewhere a bit more secure and reserved for those with only the highest levels of clearance such as herself. Behind a heavy-duty steal door much like the one of a Gringotts vault held another room used to examine cursed artefacts. Hermione bit her lip as she would have to register herself before entering. It was precautionary in case anything was taken. Once inside the tingling stopped. She opened a narrow door to her left and placed the baggie with the ring on a solitary table. Hermione left the room, shut the door and watched it seal itself with self-casted protective charms. After that she stepped over to the cupboard behind her and stared at the colorless liquid that had a horrid taste. Despite telling Draco not to be such a baby about foul-tasting potions, she was no trooper herself. It took her up to a minute to work up the nerve to swallow the potion that felt slimy as it went down and smelled like old, worn-out socks. She nearly gagged. No matter how many times she drank it the taste got no better.

Hermione could feel the potion working as soon as she finished it. Her eyes felt heavy and the world became fuzzy. She felt her way for the chair that would be in the room and found it before her body collapsed onto the floor. She felt herself leaving her body and soon after she was staring at her lifeless form on the chair. This effect freaked her out every time, but she had to remember that she wasn't dead. It was simply an outer-body experience developed by an _ingenious_ Magical Engineer (ME) for work on dangerous substances. It allowed the drinker to leave his or her body behind but still retain bodily characteristics. This said, Hermione could open doors, write, hold a book, or throw herself off a cliff. She wouldn't do the last one, of course, but if she did she'd feel the pain of it, but not die.

Hermione retrieved her wand and opened the door to take her to the ring. She stared at it and sighed as she removed the ring from the baggie with a simple charm. Even with the effects of the potion in place the magic in the ring could still be felt. That was quite the testament to how powerful the ring really was. She noted the expensive platinum, the sparkle of the emerald in the light and in the "M" etched onto the inside of the band. Also on the inside of the band were words –a motto she concluded it to be, and wondered how far back this ring went into the Malfoy family tree. The motto bore no insinuation to their hatred of muggleborns but rather a pledge to riches. Hermione couldn't fathom a single moment where any Malfoy had a thought unrelated to their pureblood ways. To have this ring _predate_ that was extraordinary.

It would be old magic indeed, and Hermione had no clue as to where to start. She eventually decided to do a spell detector charm. It would allow the ring to give off auras and depending on the color of the aura, she could determine what kind of magic was involved. And so she set to work. Complicated wand movements were involved for this kind of spell, not to mention intense concentration. As the spell took effect Hermione was awed. First and foremost Draco had a reason to be concerned. Blood magic was involved. The ring's owner had used his or her own blood in cursing it which meant that any Malfoy that touched it would suffer its effects –the effects thus far being nightmares and visions so Draco had said. There was also another aura coming off of the ring, but Hermione couldn't quite place it. As she stared she suddenly grew weak. And yet no matter how unfocused she became, she couldn't take her eyes away from the ring.

That's when it happened.

Hermione saw images flash across her mind, but instead of being a passive observer it was as though she was _living it_. From what she could gather it was in the middle of the night. She was in a room and her back was pressed against the wall. A cauldron was bubbling on the ground near the entrance and an evil-looking woman was smiling cruelly as she raised her wand. A quick flick and Hermione could feel her throat being slashed.

As quickly as the images came, they fled. Hermione's wand had dropped from her hand and the ring was sitting idly on the table. With haste she picked up her wand and placed the ring back into its protective baggie and threw herself out of the room. She set her wand next to the cupboard for a moment and then stepped into her body. Her eyes sprung open and she took deep breaths.

 _What the hell was that?_ If those were the types of images and dreams that Draco was having it was no wonder that the man couldn't sleep. But the content of the vision isn't what scared her most. It was the fact that she had been affected by the ring at all. She hadn't touched it, nor was she in her body, nor was she a Malfoy. It shouldn't have happened. The fact that it had proved to her that the ring had to be the most dangerous artefact she had ever come across.

Hermione stole a quick glance at the ring in the baggie in the adjoining room. She wanted to leave it there. Sure she had had it in her possession on her way down to the Lockdown Room, but now that she had been touched by its magic, she was fearful. That baggie would do absolutely _nothing_ to protect her from its curse and putting it back on her persons made her wary. Regardless of her feelings, however, she would have to take it. She could imagine the disaster that would occur if she left it in there. With a resolved sigh, she picked herself up as well as her wand and picked up the baggie by its corner. No one was at the Ministry right now and so seeing her, the baggie held by an edge at an arm's length away from her, was an impossibility.

She made it back to her workroom without seeing another vision and sighed in relief. Hermione walked over to her desk and set the ring in her top drawer, making sure to lock it afterwards and placing a protective charm over it. She grinned contentedly and then frowned when she heard something like a rain droplet fall. She heard two more droplets and then a third before her eyes caught sight of blood on her desk. Another droplet fell and Hermione hesitantly raised her hand to her throat. She pulled back trembling fingers covered in blood.

Hermione wasted no time in dashing to her back room. Inside it resembled a modest living room with a long sofa, armchair, coffee table, and, most importantly, a fireplace. She grabbed much more Floo Powder than necessary, stepped into the fireplace, and croaked out a weak-sounding "St. Mungo's!" in fear that more blood would leak from her neck. She tumbled out of the visitor's entrance and bumped into someone. That someone was livid about nearly falling to the ground because of her, but at seeing blood slowly seeping through Hermione's fingers the person's anger abated, and she began screaming wildly for help.

* * *

Draco usually slept in on Saturdays, but the dream he had woken from left him in a frazzled state. He swallowed deeply. Usually he didn't remember his dreams –nightmares or otherwise. Even with the ring plaguing him all he saw were flashes of images but nothing with any coherency. But last night? Last night was the first time he had seen anything of substance and it made his skin crawl.

He had seen a murder.

It had taken place in what was now Malfoy Manor's dungeons. He stood in the corner of a cell (or room rather) and watched as a woman with unkempt hair stare wide-eyed at a regal woman who was seemingly determined to kill her. In fact she did. The woman sliced the other's throat and the young girl fell to the ground, a pool of blood quickly circling her. The murderer grinned ecstatically and tilted her head to the side as she looked on approvingly of her actions.

"Too bad you had no wand." The woman said as she tucked her own away. "I would have loved to see what a muggle-born like you would have accomplished."

The malice in the woman's voice made Draco's blood turn cold. It was as the woman was leaving the room that Draco woke up, drenched in sweat, and trying to figure out what the young girl had done to make the lady of the house do such a terrible thing. He sighed and reclined on his bed only to have to get up and let in an owl. He didn't recognize the majestic bird, but he did recognize the handwriting of his name on one side of the letter. As Draco read the letter's contents he dropped it. A quick flick of his wand changed his clothing and he headed directly towards the fireplace in his study.

On the other end he came out gracefully and rushed to the reception desk. "Granger," He breathed. "Hermione Granger, what room is she in?"

The receptionist stared at him as though he had two heads. His lips rose in a snarl as he repeated his question which then prompted the confused witch into action. "Room six-twenty-seven,"

Draco left without thanking her and hurried his way to the elevator. It was the slowest ride in an elevator he had ever been in and he hurled himself out of it before the doors were properly opened. His eyes darted wildly at the room number tags on the doors as he tried to figure out whether they chronologically went up or down. Once he figured out the hospital's number system Draco found Hermione's room. He opened the door in haste and surprised the brown-haired witch who was sitting up in her bed and had been looking out of the window.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"You wrote me. You told me the ring had hurt you."

Hermione blinked rapidly. "Y-yes, I did. But I expected you to write me back, not… _come_."

Draco felt his face grow red. He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he drew closer to her bed. "You touched the ring." He accused. He needed a reason to be mad at her instead of feeling highly embarrassed to be in her presence. "You touched the ring after what I told you had happened to me when I did it."

"I did no such thing." Hermione argued, heat rising to her face. Draco huffed.

"Oh yeah? Then how the hell did you end up here?!"

"I don't know! I…I honestly don't know and it scares me."

Draco's eyes softened. He had seen Hermione many things, but deathly terrified wasn't one of them. He sighed and conjured a chair so that he could sit at her bedside. "What happened?"

"I was examining the ring in the Ministry's Lockdown Room. It was the safest place I could do it." She explained. "I used the body splitting potion as I usually do when working with especially dangerous objects and got going. My spell showed that the ring is cursed with blood magic. That's the reason why it's affected you. I doubted very much then that the ring would affect anyone else _not_ a Malfoy."

Draco arched a brow. " _Doubted_? You don't doubt that anymore?"

"How can I?" Hermione grimly joked as she motioned to the bandages around her neck. Draco frowned.

"What if it was just a protective measure? Something the ring did because you were tampering with it?"

"No, it couldn't have been. Malfoy, I had a vision. It was about two women, one of them killing the other. One-"

"Slashed the other's throat." Draco finished, a sinking feeling filling his chest. Hermione stared at him oddly. "I dreamt about that last night. I was standing in the corner of the room as it happened."

"Lucky you," She mused bitterly. "I didn't just see it. I was the girl getting murdered. I felt everything. Her fear. Her trembling. Her throat being sliced apart. And then it happened to me."

Draco watched horribly as Hermione fumbled with her bandages and revealed her neck to him. It was there, clear as day: a healing line from one side of her throat to the other. He had been feeling sick before, but now he certainly was.

"I can't go near the ring again, Malfoy." Hermione said sternly. "I won't."

"I wouldn't want you to." Draco replied with a sorrowful expression. "I'll retrieve the ring from you as soon as possible. I'll try to figure this out on my own-"

"I didn't say that I wouldn't help. I just… I won't go near the ring."

Draco gaped at her. She was unbelievable. She had been nearly killed by a piece of jewelry and yet she was still determined to help him. Perhaps crazy was a better description of her. Whatever the appropriate word, Draco couldn't help the smile that came to him and placed a hand over hers.

"You're ever curious, Granger." Draco said with a laugh in his voice. Hermione grinned, and her stomach tightened as she felt his thumb caress the back of her hand.

"Always, Malfoy. Always,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, Hermione's trip down to the Lockdown Room wasn't for nothing, but it certainly came with a pretty close call. The ring is even more mysterious than they thought and only leads to more questions. On the flipside to the dark and grim, Draco came running :). Isn't he just cute?

-WP


	5. Cursed

**February 2005**

"What we both saw that night took place here in the dungeons." Draco said as he brought out rolls of parchment and littered them across the large table.

Hermione stared at both him and the parchment rolls in disbelief. When he said that he was going to fetch the Malfoy Family Tree Histories, she didn't think it would be an endless amount of parchment. She and Draco were in one of the many immaculate rooms of Malfoy Manor where they easily decided would be the headquarters of their mysterious mission. Truth be told, Hermione had averse feelings towards the home almost as much as what she felt towards the ring, but she _did_ agree to help.

"The dungeons?" Hermione repeated as she picked up a roll. "That certainly didn't look like any dungeon, although it was as dank as one."

"Well, back then it wasn't a dungeon. Malfoy Manor underwent two major constructions in its lifetime. One back in 1801 and the other in 1932. More recent ancestors such as my grandfather did a bit of remodeling, sure, but nothing close to what the other reconstructions were. They demolished wings, built new ones, added secret passages. It was quite extensive. But I digress…

'Seeing as the murdered girl appeared to be living down there and the fact that there were human servants at all points to seventeenth, eighteenth century easy. Hence, the need to comb through the family history for her killer."

"You can't seriously mean to tell me that you have records from _that_ far back?" Hermione said credulously. Draco smiled proudly as he nodded.

"Good thing, too, or else we'd be screwed."

"I'm still unclear as to how this will help. Who's to say that the woman is a Malfoy?"

"Oh, she is." Draco said assuredly. "Aside from her regal attire, she killed a household help. A _female_ household help. It's sad to say that early in Malfoy family history, it was customary that quite a few young maidens fell at the hands of jealous wives whether by wand, throttling, beheading..."

Hermione paused and looked up at him with credulousness yet again. " _Jealous wives?_ Surely, you don't mean to say-"

"Malfoy men slept with them." He replied casually as he opened a parchment roll. "It was only to satisfy their needs until they found a wife. At that point it was supposed to stop. Not all of them did."

"And so the woman got picked off, but nothing happened to the man? Sickening," Hermione spewed venomously and covered her head from Draco's eyesight with parchment.

"I'm not saying that it was right." She heard him say. "It's just the way it was until the early to mid-nineteenth century when servants were replaced by house elves."

"Why the sudden change? Servants became too _unfashionable_ and your family wanted to keep up with the latest craze?"

Draco didn't miss the heat of her tone, but chuckled at it rather than getting mad. "On the contrary, my family and many other noble ones found it necessary. Muggles had been our choice of indentured servants. As time went on, more and more of them turned out to be muggleborns. It was risky having a witch or wizard as your servant seeing as many of them harbored ill will against whom they served. Mysterious poisons, charmed daggers, you name it. House elves became the preferred servant as they were essentially more efficient as well as forced to be obedient and unable to inflict harm on their masters.

'This kind of information helps with our search as well. The woman called the girl 'muggle-born.' There was no hatred behind it. She just said it as what the name originally meant: someone of muggle heritage and not as it's used today as someone with muggle heritage _and_ who's a witch or wizard. Someone like that must have been very rare to find at the time."

"When did you hear her call the girl a muggle-born?" Hermione asked with a furrowed brow. "I didn't hear that at all."

"The girl – _you_ were dead." Draco said simply. "You weren't alive to hear her say it while I was a voyeur."

"Makes sense I suppose. Doesn't make our situation any less creepy though."

"Mhmm,"

The two of them delved into silence. They each took their time searching the rolls of parchment for any Lady Malfoy that looked like the one they had seen. Every once in a while Hermione would tear her eyes away from her roll and gaze at the immaculate library that she sat in. This was one of four libraries within Malfoy Manor so Draco had told her. If the others were just as magnificent as this one she would positively squeal from joy. Centuries upon centuries of literature were on these shelves. For the first time in her life Hermione was actually jealous of Draco. He was able to peruse these books as much as he liked and for however long he liked. She sighed within herself, counting it lucky that she had ever stepped foot here in the first place. _Especially_ considering the Malfoy family's utter hatred for her kind of witch.

"I found her."

"What?"

"I found her." Draco repeated. "Here, look."

Draco rose from his seat with the parchment roll in his hands and spread it out on the table in front of her. He pointed. Before even registering what he was showing her, Hermione was amazed at how many names were spread across the parchment above the woman in question. _Exactly how far do the Malfoy Family Tree Histories go?_ She thought wildly. The cough from Draco brought her attention back. Hermione scanned the roll and stopped where her companion's fingers had. It was her alright. Despite how sweet and smiling she looked in the photo, Hermione just couldn't quite get that maniacal look out of her mind.

"Lady Amelia Isabel Malfoy, née Rosée," Hermione read. "She was married to Cornelius Scorpius Malfoy. Hmm,"

"What?"

"Nothing. Just Cornelius looks a lot like you."

Draco took in the man's photo and then shrugged. "I guess so. At least now we can put a name to a face. Too bad this doesn't help much with the ring itself."

"How do you figure?"

"We had the ring dated. It couldn't have come into existence prior to the nineteenth century."

Hermione frowned. "Well that just raises more questions than gives answers, doesn't it? How are we seeing images from the eighteenth century through a ring that wasn't made until a full century after that?"

"That's an excellent question." Draco sighed. "But thinking about that is just going to stress us out. Let's just focus on what we know. We saw past events –past events that put you in the hospital. They must be important somehow and so we've got to figure out exactly what happened. Come on, Granger."

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she got out of her chair.

"You get to be the first one outside of the Malfoy family to read the Malfoy journals."

* * *

 _ **February 1711**_

 _Cornelius didn't need everything to be taken care of by maidens. He wasn't an invalid. But it was nice to be doted on and if anyone deserved that it was a Malfoy. Amelia felt the same in that regard, even before she bore the Malfoy name. She routinely dressed in an adjoining bedroom to the one they shared. Granted they both could have dressed in one room, but his dear wife took great pleasure in surprising him with her dressing gown of the day. All the same, it allowed Cornelius the ability to send for Matilda to aid him. She dressed him well. Throw in a touch here, a kiss there, and a rub or two to elicit delectable moans from the love of his life, and it was an exquisite way to begin a morning._

" _Arthur, I request Matilda to aid in the dressing." Cornelius said to his manservant. He didn't move, however. He merely stood there, arms behind his back and sporting a weary expression. Cornelius' eyes narrowed. "Arthur, I just asked for Matilda. What are you doing still standing here?"_

" _I am so very sorry, Young Master Malfoy." Arthur frowned. "But I cannot send for Matilda."_

 _Cornelius' nose flared. "_ _ **And why not?**_ _"_

" _She… She is dead."_

 _Cornelius' dark countenance changed dramatically. He relaxed his face and his shoulders drooped just as his heart fell to his stomach. "She's what?"_

" _Dead, Young Master Malfoy," Arthur repeatedly. "She was found by the other maidens early this morning. She was laying faced down in a pool of her own blood. A most gruesome death."_

 _Cornelius felt faint. His stomach lurched dangerously and his body completely gave out on him. Luckily he had been near the bed and he fell onto it. His insides burned and his skin felt numb. He rolled onto his left side as his hands gripped the bed's sheets tightly._

" _How? How could this have happened?" He breathed onto the bed. Arthur wasn't sure of how to answer it, if he answered at all. He wasn't sure how his master would react to the news seeing as he had already lost all sense of himself. It was remarkable really. Arthur had seen his previous masters of the Rosée family grieve for someone before, but it certainly had never been for a servant._

" _Answer me, Arthur." Cornelius said viciously as he sat up from the bed. "How did this happen?"_

 _Arthur swallowed and took a deep breath. "Matilda was found with…with her… She was found-"_

" _With her throat sliced open." Came Amelia's voice. She was dressed spectacularly as though she was heading to a ball rather than beginning an ordinary day. Truth be told she knew she was a tad overdressed, but she had felt so_ _ **good**_ _when she woke that morning that she thought to spoil herself. "You may excuse yourself, Arthur."_

 _Arthur couldn't have been happier to escape the pair. Amelia watched as the man scurried out of the bedroom. Once he was gone she turned her eyes on her husband who was weeping pathetically. She tutted at him and walked over._

" _Come now, Cornelius. She was only a servant girl."_

" _She was more than that." He choked out. Amelia's lips grew firm as she let out another tut._

" _Oh, yes, of course she was. You did_ _ **love**_ _her after all, did you not? Well, that is all under the bridge now."_

 _Cornelius, still in a haze, snapped his eyes to her. He raised a shaking, accusatory finger at her and spoke with a tremble. "Y-you… What did you do to her?! What did you do to Matilda?!"_

" _Clearly you were not paying much attention." Amelia huffed. "Arthur and I already told you what happened. Matilda's throat was neatly split in two halves. I did it, of course. I watched her crumble to the ground and the blood flow freely from her. It was a pleasure to see the life drain out of her."_

 _Cornelius shot to his feet and towered over his wife. "_ _ **How could you do this?!**_ _"_

" _How could I? How could_ _ **you**_ _?!" Amelia shot back. "Sleeping with the help may have been acceptable when you were a boy, but you are a_ _ **man**_ _now, Cornelius Scorpius Malfoy. I may have even overlooked your transgression had you not declared your love for the wench. Love! Love for a filthy muggle-born over your noble wife. It is_ _ **absurd**_ _."_

" _Why?" Cornelius challenged. "Because you cannot fathom a union other than between two noble houses? Love comes in many different forms, Amelia. Mine, my_ _ **true love**_ _, had taken the form of a magically gifted muggle young woman whom you have taken away from me." He frowned bitterly, tears threatening to break through yet again. "…I will never smile again because of what you have done."_

 _Amelia clenched her jaws terribly and glared at him mercilessly. "You shame yourself, Cornelius. You shame yourself, me, your parents, and your entire Malfoy family line. And for what? A dirty-blooded muggle. A_ _ **mud**_ _blooded muggle. A great shame indeed."_

 _Cornelius was no longer angry. An utter emptiness was inside him now and it tortured him. He sat back on the bed and stared blankly ahead of him. "No matter… I will have Matilda in my next life."_

 _Amelia scowled profusely. "I thought you might say something of that nature. And I forbid it."_

 _Cornelius turned to his wife in time to see her pull a potion bottle from inside of her robes. He didn't have time to react. The bottle was thrown and had broken at his feet. The liquid inside instantly bubbled and smoked as its smell dove straight for his nose._

" _I curse you, Cornelius Malfoy." Amelia said venomously. "I curse you in this life and every life after this one has ended. You may find your beloved_ _ **Matilda**_ _again. You may love her. You may have her._ _ **But you will never keep her**_ _."_

 _Cornelius' mind clouded. His chest heaved and it wasn't because he was grieving. The scent of the potion had climbed up his nose and was swimming in his mouth, his brain, and making him weak. He stared at his wife as he coughed and attempted to move from his spot so as not to take in more of the potion. Regardless, he was stuck and Amelia was beaming._

" _Do enjoy your time with her." She said patronizingly. "It will be short-lived no matter what you do."_

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, you can add one more curse to the list! And to think that the ring was bad enough. Poor Cornelius… As an author I love to write these kind of things, but I feel so terrible for the characters.

Thanks for reading everyone :D

-WP


	6. Written Tales

**March 2005**

The room where the Malfoy family journals were kept had been even more beautiful than the library –and _that_ was saying something. The floor was pure marble and her reflection in it was crystal clear. The shelves had intricate carvings and at the very top of each one the letter "M" was carved and filled in with precious emerald stones. The Malfoy family motto was also written on either side of the "M" in the same jewels. Hermione had remarked that shelves on the left side of the room held the old motto and it was there that Draco had headed. He had passed by each shelf, carefully inspecting the spines of each set of journals that lay behind streak-free glass. They held the journal owner's name in delicate cursive as well as the years the journal spoke of. Eventually Draco had stopped in front of one particular shelf and smiled satisfactorily, shortly frowning after.

"They're not in chronological order." Draco had explained. It hadn't been a cause for alarm in Hermione's mind, but it certainly had been for him. Draco had stuck his hand clean through the glass and pulled out five journals at once and handed them to her. "This room is a shrine. We would never haphazardly return an ancestor's journal out of place, much less _all of them_. This was done without care; done in haste. I can't imagine why."

Hermione had frowned and levitated each journal Draco had given her to an enormous table similar to the one that lay in the library. She did so for every journal he passed her until the table could barely be seen. That had been in February. Before they could start reading, they had to organize them. It proved to be an arduous task seeing as they both had jobs to get to. And so they would go to the Ministry, find each other when their shifts were over, and then take the Floo to Malfoy Manor where they would eat and then get down to work.

The organizing had taken the rest of February. It wasn't until the first week of March that everything had been properly organized and they figured out what timeframe they could start looking. Seeing as at the time Malfoy men used to marry was soon after their eighteenth birthday, Hermione and Draco decided to look into journals the year before Cornelius' eighteenth year and the five years after that. That was six journals, divided up three each to peruse.

They worked in silence over the next two and a half weeks, but not without anxiety. Hermione could hardly keep her gasps of surprise quiet and would elicit a cocked a brow and heavy stare from the blonde who sat across from her. Draco, though however stoic he tried to be when reading, wasn't without his own bouts of bewilderment. He didn't commit such blatant cries of shock as the busy-haired brunette, but unfortunately Hermione caught on to his subtleties. The clearing of his throat, his loud swallowing in the densely quiet air, or a finger-pull of his collar.

They both closed their respective journals at the same time and looked up at each other with flushed cheeks. "…You first." Draco spoke, his mouth incredibly dry. Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers. Clearly she didn't want to discuss _anything_ that was in the journal, but she hadn't a choice as he gently urged her. "You have the early years."

"Right…" She sighed, slowly picking up the journal. It had several ripped pieces of parchment stuck inside to mark what she considered to be important points in Cornelius' life. She would have preferred to highlight them, but she knew Draco would break her arm off if she had even suggested such a thing.

"April 10th, 1710," Hermione began slowly, eyeing Draco intermittently. "'Nothing of significant interest has happened today, and so the only news to disclose is the addition of a new maiden. She is quiet and very subservient like all the others. Pretty in the face, I must admit. Her hair is a disastrous sight to see, although one cannot expect a servant to reach perfection in appearance. Her name, if I remember correctly, is Matilda.

'May 21st, 1710, 'I cannot believe it. Even after finally being able to rest my eyes I am still in disbelief. The young _muggle_ maiden Matilda has magical capabilities. Innate ones at that! I am ever curious to know what more this girl can do. It is one thing to have heard tales of muggles being able to brew a potion or even cast a spell, but to have _seen_ it with your very eyes… It can only be described as astonishing.

'June 8th, 1710, 'I have met my betrothed today. Her name is Amelia Rosée and my father and mother have made a fine choice. We will court and then be wed on New Year's Eve. The blood of Malfoy and Rosée combined will yield powerful children, not to mention an immense increase in wealth. _À la Richesse_ …

'September 18th, 1710, 'Just as the other times before, last night I presented Matilda with various ingredients for her to create the potion of my choice. And just as the other times before, she executed the potion with the success of an aged master. She is _brilliant_. She is…many other things as well, but I cannot will myself to write them.'"

Hermione turned a few pages and settled on the one that had made her gasp the second loudest. Her eyes found Draco's nervously and he urged her on with a nod of his head. She sighed deeply, her skin turning pink as she read.

'December 28th, 1710, 'Last night I committed an act that will lead to Matilda's death should anyone find out. It is sad, and yet joyous to say that after months of growing to appreciate the incredibly _gifted_ muggle witch, both for her magic and her chaste beauty, that I succumbed to my desires of her. _And she let me._ Where I was once afraid to admit such feelings, I refuse to be so cowardly yet again. I love Matilda. I wish it was she to be my wife instead of Amelia. Surely I will live with this heartache for the rest of my life.'"

Hermione paused in her reading and looked up at Draco whose skin had turned whiter than it usually was. "Draco?"

He continued to stare, body rigid, but eventually he acknowledged her. "…The death." He said in a croaked reply. "Did he talk about Matilda's death?"

Hermione frowned as she nodded. "He did. It's…very painful to read. Although, what happened the day after Matilda died by Amelia's hand is worse."

Draco stared at her in disbelief. "What could be worse than losing the love of your life and having to live out the rest of it with the monster that killed her?"

"Never being able to have her again."

"She was _dead_ , Granger." Draco said irritably. "How could Cornelius have her again?"

"In his next life," Hermione answered. Draco tensed up in his chair and sat up more erect. "Amelia cursed him. She cursed him so that he could, and I quote, 'find her, love her, have her, but never keep her.' Cornelius is doomed to be reincarnated and find Matilda, love her the way that he wants, but eventually never have his happy ending. Neither of them will ever have happy lives all because of a jealous, merciless wife."

Hermione snarled in a way that surprised Draco as she angrily snapped the journal shut and tossed it onto the table. She looked up at him then, clearly embarrassed by her actions and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What about you? What juicy tidbits did you read about?"

"They weren't nearly as 'juicy' as yours." Draco said as he stared at the three journals in front of him. "Mostly it was just ramblings. Ramblings about Matilda and the things that he missed about her. He gushed about her talents as a witch. He fantasized about what his life would be like with her. He wondered if his son would look so much like him if she had been his mother instead of Amelia. Cornelius was quite…obsessive. At the end of the third journal, though, he did something that took me a bit by surprise."

"What was it?"

"He sketched a picture." Draco began to fidget in his seat as he took up the journal he referred to and flipped to the back of it. "He sketched a picture of Matilda."

By the look on Draco's face Hermione knew that she hadn't wanted to see it. Despite her reluctance she rose to her feet and slowly made her way over to him. It was as she feared. Matilda could have been her mother, sister –any relation really. Hermione's tongue felt heavy. She didn't know what to say. What _could_ she say? Draco didn't have any words to contribute either and closed the mesmerizing journal. Silence swept the room and even then it was deafening.

"There has to be more." Draco said after a while. His voice made Hermione's skin crawl having been so attuned to the noiseless room. She turned to him with a quizzical look.

"More?"

Draco nodded. "I refuse to believe that Cornelius and Matilda lived only once. There must have others before…before us."

Hermione scoffed. It wasn't in any form of derision, but one of downright anxiety and a whole other array of overwhelming emotions. She ran her hands through her hair and began to pace the room. " _Us…_ " She repeated as she walked. "It can't be us. It just…it can't!"

"Granger, the picture-"

"Is a _picture_ ," She growled at him.

 _She's spending much too much time with me…_ Draco thought to himself at her glaring face. Her pacing didn't falter and he was sure that she would run down the marble floor if she kept this up. Draco picked himself up and walked over to the frazzled woman before him. "Granger. Granger, stop."

Draco had grabbed Hermione's shoulders and she fought to shrug him off. "Let me go, Malfoy." She hissed, but his grip only tightened.

"No, not until you calm down."

"Calm down? How can I calm down?! Weren't you listening to me when I talked about the curse? No matter Cornelius and Matilda's lives it'll always be the same. They'll love each other and be happy for a time, but then it'll all fall apart." Hermione's anger had abated and had suddenly been replaced with trepidation and sadness. "I can only surmise from our shared vision that what keeps them apart is death. Malfoy, one of us is going to die."

Draco could feel Hermione shake. He was sure her body would have given out had he not been holding onto her. She was scared. She wasn't afraid of the fact that ultimately either she or Draco would succumb to some sort of catastrophe, or the ridiculous idea that they may one day love each other. She was afraid of loving him and then having that love taken away. Draco sighed and pulled her into a hug. It was instinctual on his part, and he remarked how her body relaxed after he had done it.

"I guess it's a good thing neither one of us is falling for the other, huh?" Draco said in a low chuckle. It was an attempt to remind her that they were far from executing Amelia's curse, but as he continued to hold Hermione in his arms he had trouble believing it.

Hermione laughed at his words and nodded, slowly pulling away from him. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sure if you keep being an obnoxious prat, we'll be fine."

Draco smiled. "So long as you keep acting like…well, _you_ , we'll be doubly fine. Now let's go. We've got one more thing to do."

Hermione was confused as the journals were ever their only priority. She figured out what he meant, however, after following him through the long and wide corridors of Malfoy Manor and to his bedroom. She watched as he used his wand to fish out the devil ring from the top drawer of his night table and rested it there.

"We have to figure out if there were others." Draco said as he stared at the ring. "If it could show us what happened to Matilda, then maybe it'll show us the fate of whoever else was affected by the curse. I'll put it on and-"

" _Put it on?!_ " Hermione shouted. "Malfoy, have you lost your mind?! You touched it and you haven't slept properly _in_ _months_. I handle it indirectly and I nearly bleed out in my office!"

"I know the risks, Granger, but do we honestly have a choice here? We don't have time to go combing through every Malfoy journal to find out who else lost a loved one."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but found no proper rebuttal. She merely joined Draco in starting at the ring before letting out a frustrating groan. "Fine," She mumbled. "Just…let me get comfortable before you put the damned thing on."

"Comfortable?" Draco knit his brows together as he watched Hermione lay down on one side of his bed.

"We both had the same vision the last time remember? If this works, something tells me I'm going to be seeing and feeling everything."

Draco gulped. He took a deep breath and walked over to the other side of his bed and lay down next to her. With a flick of his wand the ring was in his hand. He already felt the magic buzzing around his fingertips and travelling through him. He could see Hermione from the corner of his eye gazing nervously at him. He gave her a comforting smile before slipping the ring onto his right hand. As soon as he closed his eyes he felt his mind, body, _every part of him_ being whisked away from where he was and to somewhere completely unknown.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, you've all pretty much figured out that Hermione and Draco were reincarnations of Matilda and Cornelius, so kudos. But alas, as Draco said, the unfortunate pair had to have lived more than once. Putting on that ring to find out who, though, is such a bad and good idea at the same time. But when you want answers, you'll do just about anything to get them it seems.

A big shout-out to all of you who have been supporting this story so far. It really means a lot :)

Until next time!

-WP


	7. A Seamstress' Plight

_**March 1818**_

 _Julius was frowning hideously. He had been in an ever-growing foul mood after he and his wife perused shoppe after shoppe looking for something suitable to wear for an upcoming benefit. His wife, Elena, had easily found a magnificent dress to compliment her pretty face and curvy figure. He was dying for the date of the benefit to come just so he could see her in it again. But then again, he wished the date to postpone itself since as of right now he was attending the benefit stark naked._

" _Why don't you simply have your attire tailor-made?" Elena suggested. Julius huffed. It was the last thing that he had wanted to do. Tailor-made dress robes were far too expensive. Sure, he was a member of the richest pureblood family in Europe and the expenditure wouldn't hurt him in the least, but it didn't mean that he wanted to do it. Elena stared at her husband and he knew what she was thinking. Cheap. On the contrary, Julius considered himself frugal. He spent what he needed to on what was necessary. Needs over wants. One ancestor had reversed those two and nearly drove the Malfoy family line into bankruptcy. Julius' grandfather had righted them and then some._

" _You have no other choice if nothing pleases you, Julius." Elena told him. He sighed and nodded as his wife gently tugged him along London's streets. "How about we try over there? It looks newly opened."_

 _Julius scowled. "It looks muggle-owned."_

 _Julius said so because of the candles he could see lighting the quaint shoppe. Wizard shoppes were lighted in the proper, magical way with a few orbs spaced out across the ceiling. Some used candles as well, but they were levitated and kept away from the merchandise or anywhere that would cause the shoppe to catch fire. Seeing as neither was now the case his conclusion had validity. Julius simply couldn't_ _ **wait**_ _until muggles were run out of London. Not literally, but of course he didn't mind that either._

 _At this time in the nineteenth century changes were occurring. Where wizards and muggles relatively lived in the same world, they were slowly separating what with mudbloods raising their ugly heads. They drew a clearer line between who was magical and who was not, and now the populous was subconsciously creating shopping centers, cities, and small villages with only wizard occupants and only muggle occupants. Mudlboods placed themselves wherever they were most comfortable. If it was in wizard society, it was only because purebloods didn't know their true nature. London itself was a hodgepodge of mudbloods and muggles. The only reason Julius was here at all was because they were good with clothes. Why shouldn't they be? When most were still subject to be indentured servants in a wizard home they took part in seamstress work. They were the finest gowns and dress robes one could lay eyes on. It was that notion that pushed Julius' prejudices aside as he entered the shoppe._

" _Looks like it's mudblood-owned instead, sweetheart." Elena whispered to him. She had spied what Julius eventually saw: a pair of knitting needles working without human hands. Normally this sort of thing wouldn't be done so openly, but most of the other shoppes were already closed. Muggles wouldn't notice this innocuous bit of magic._

" _Good evening," a previously unnoticed man said as he climbed down from the second landing of the shoppe from a ladder. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and smiled at his customers. "How may I help you Mr. and Mrs…?"_

" _Malfoy," Julius said in a none-too-friendly tone. The man straightened up. Yes, he had heard of the Malfoys, even from Italy where he and his wife had recently relocated from. He smiled yet again, albeit a bit frightfully._

" _Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," He continued. "My name is Alberto Giovanni. How many I assist you this evening?"_

" _I need_ _ **exquisite**_ _dress robes to be made." Julius answered him. A sneer had wanted to come to his lips, but he knew better than to bite the hand of the one to feed you. Even if he could destroy the man with a single letter to the right person it wasn't polite; and a Malfoy was always polite, however fake. "They must be made before the end of next month."_

" _Of course, Mr. Malfoy. We can arrange that."_

 _Julius quirked a brow. "We?"_

 _Alberto nodded. "Yes, we. My wife and I. She is the seamstress while I do the vending." He then turned over his shoulder and called out. "Giana! Noi abbiamo i clienti!"_

" _Io vengo!" A feminine voice called back. The woman who held the voice came out from the back of the shoppe and Julius froze. Alberto's wife was a stunning woman. Waist-length, curly brown hair held together in a clip and draped over her shoulder, chocolate brown eyes to match, small, yet pouty lips, and a figure that, although paled in comparison to his own wife's, rivaled hers either way._

" _Giana, this is Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," Alberto introduced as she stood next to him. "Mr. Malfoy needs dress robes before next month comes to a close."_

 _Giana bid her courteous hellos to the Mrs. and then settled her eyes on Julius. He wasn't sure if Elena had seen it, but there was no mistaking the hate that the seamstress wore in her eyes. Though however much he wanted to pry at the mudblood, he didn't. Instead he flashed a winning smile._

" _So," Julius began as he let his eyes give her yet another look over. "Will you do it?"_

 _Giana cupped her hands in front of her and smiled sweetly. Julius wasn't fooled for a second, but appreciated the attempt. "Of course I will. You're welcome to come by as soon as you're free and we can start with a preliminary fitting."_

" _Excellent, I'll come by tomorrow."_

* * *

 _ **April 1818**_

 _From the moment Giana had met Julius Malfoy she had wanted to retreat from the room. She didn't like him. She didn't need to speak with him or spend any amount of time with him for her to know that he was a ruthless man who cared about nothing but power, money,_ _ **and purity**_ _. It was people like him that prompted her to urge her husband to move them. "Anywhere," she had pleaded. "Let's go anywhere that isn't here." She knew she couldn't outrun arrogant purebloods forever, but she didn't think that one would walk into her shoppe within a month of moving somewhere new._

 _And now she was making dress robes for_ _ **il bastardo**_ _._

 _When Julius walked back into her shoppe the next day an hour before closing time Giana had tried her best to be cordial. The expression on his face suggested that he wasn't buying it. He merely threw furtive glances and smirks, gave low chuckles, and let out sarcastic statements. It was the statements (rude demands and quick snaps at her) that made Giana want to lash out at him. The only thing that held her back was her husband. Despite wanting to acknowledge it, Julius had connections. He knew everyone everywhere and was on top of the social food chain. He could rip out what Giana and her husband had right from under them. Now she could survive. She was a fighter. Alberto on the other hand didn't have the same spirit as she. He strove for stability and would bend over backwards to keep it. It was her love for him that stilled her tongue. In English…_

" _Seamstress, I do hope this is the last fitting." Julius said as he threw on the dress robes in a magically expanded dressing room. Despite the quaintness of the shoppe itself, the dressing room was quite nice. As far as mudblood standards went, anyway._

 _In the back room Giana was fuming._ _ **Incredibile…**_ _She thought to herself with her wand in hand and waiting for the man to emerge. She had been working on the bloody ingrate's robes for the past month and still he only ever called her "seamstress." For someone who claimed to have impeccable manners, the Malfoy who would soon be at the mercy of an angry witch with a wand certainly was incapable of treating others with respect._

" _All alterations have already been made." Giana said once Julius had stepped out of the dressing room. He stepped onto the pedestal that she motioned to and she stared at him with her hands on her hips. "I simply ask my clients for a final fitting after alterations in case there is anything he or she would like to change."_

" _It's a good thing then. The collar is much too tight."_

 _Giana's eyebrows rose towards her hairline and she stifled a scoff. Instead she took an unnoticeable, steadying breath, and addressed his complaint. "Too tight? Two days ago you said it was too loose."_

" _And now it's_ _ **too tight**_ _. Loosen it."_

" _Insopportabile…" Giana grumbled under her breath as she flicked her wand this way and that. Luckily the stitching she had done to tighten the collar was easily undoable. She had had a feeling something like this would arise. "Better?"_

 _Julius smiled sardonically at her. "Much. Fix the cuffs as well. I'd like not to be trapped in my bloody robes."_

 _Giana's eyes flashed dangerously, but she turned her attention to the cuffs before he could see. She began to grumble even more as she worked. "Stronzo… No lo credo. Potrei strangolarlo."_

" _What was that?"_

" _Nothing,"_

 _Julius chuckled and stopped Giana in her work by placing a hand over hers. "Tu sei una bugiarda terribile."_

 _Giana stared at him blankly. "You speak Italian?"_

" _Yes. French and Spanish as well."_

 _Julius had expected the color to drain from her face at the revelation, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead she wriggled her hand free and continued loosening his left cuff._

" _I'm surprised."_

" _It's not uncommon for members of noble families to speak multiple languages-"_

" _No, not that." Giana interrupted. She snuck a peek at him and then moved onto the other cuff. "I'm surprised you haven't yet cursed me for all of the other things I've said about you in Italian."_

 _At that Julius let out a full-fledged hearty laugh. That surprised Giana further. She didn't think that he was capable of such extreme emotions._

" _I played along simply to see what other creative insults you could come up with. Turned out to be quite a few."_

" _Yes, well… I'm not particularly fond of you."_

 _Julius huffed. "Bold woman. You said that in English."_

" _Well, it wouldn't have mattered if I said it in Italian, now would it?"_

 _The amount of sass that hung on her words amused Julius highly. She was a feisty woman. He had already known that after listening to her insult him in a way no woman should, no matter her station in life. But it seemed different now in English. Harsher. Meaner. Angrier, perhaps. Whatever the description, it caused Julius' lips to curl into a smirk. He liked this woman._

" _You hate me." He stated. "Why?"_

 _Giana stopped her work on the cuff and looked up at his face. He seemed quite keen to know the answer. There was no malice in his voice for once and it was startling. She took a step back from him and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't like the way you treat me or my kind of witch."_

" _Of course… That's what it all boils down to, isn't it? Seamstress-"_

" _I have a name." Giana snapped. On reflex Julius' eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared._

" _Giana-"_

" _Mrs. Giovanni to you-"_

" _ **Mind your tongue, mudblood.**_ _" Julius snarled at her. He had stepped down from his pedestal and even then still towered over the youthful woman who, for the first time since meeting him, shrank in fear. He continued to take steps towards her until Giana was backed into the wall. There was nowhere for her to go. Julius raised his right hand and quickly clasped it on the back of her neck. Giana squealed at the abruptness of it and stared into his cold eyes._

" _I may have tolerated your insolence from the moment I met you, but it stops here." He said firmly. "You are a_ _ **mudblood-ed seamstress**_ _, and I am of affluent, noble,_ _ **pure**_ _blood. You will treat me with the proper reverence. Understood?"_

" _Compreso," Giana replied. Julius let her go and made his way to the dressing room. Before he stepped inside he said one last thing._

" _I do like you, Mrs. Giovanni. But there is only so much audacity I'm willing to endure."_

* * *

 **Author's note:** So, I absolutely ADORE Giana. Her sass, her "audacity," everything. As for Julius well, he's one of those hate to love him type of characters.

I also must point out that I know only 5% of Italian and that's what I've gotten through online dictionaries and a lovely app for android phones haha. So, please, if you speak Italian and if anything is wrong, do feel free to let me know.

Here are the meanings (I hope they're correct!) to everything that Alberto/Giana/Julius said: 1) Noi abbiamo i client: we have clients, 2) Io vengo: I'm coming, 3) il bastardo: the bastard, 4) Incredibile: incredible, 5) Insopportabile: intolerable; 6) Stronzo… No lo credo. Potrei strangolarlo: Arse… I don't believe him. I could strangle him, 7) Tu sei una bugiarda terribile: you're terrible liar, 8) Compreso: understood.

ALSO! I'm switching days that I post on this story. I'm starting a new job tomorrow (yippee!) so posting on Mondays will be a bit hard for me. Instead I'll post on Thursdays. I've posted today since I refused to let you guys wait a week and a half for another chapter :). I WILL be posting this Thursday, so hooray for two chapters in one week :D

-WP


	8. The Ring

_**August 1818**_

 _Despite threatening_ _ **Mrs. Giovanni**_ _four months ago, Julius had had no intention of doing actual harm to her. And he did apologize to her at the end of the night. Since then he had gone back to see her twice for two more dress robe fittings. Despite her snarky attitude in either language, she was a remarkable seamstress. He had always been the talk of the party, but now even more so. After his third set of dress robes he had offered to hire Giana as a personal seamstress for the Malfoy family. Naturally she was dubious of him and she wasn't willing to be in such close proximity to him either. But regardless, she humored him and had asked what exactly the position entailed._

 _He told her in as blunt a manner as possible, "You come to live in Malfoy Manor, both you and your husband. You'll make clothing for myself, my wife, my son, and my father and mother."_

 _Giana huffed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm no servant."_

" _You're right. Servants don't receive wages. You will."_

 _Money was a strong source of persuasion for the testy mudblood. At the word "wages" her demeanor had changed considerably. Still playing the coy one, she had asked exactly how much those wages would be. After he had told her, Giana's eyes grew wide. Shortly after, she said that she would discuss things with her husband. Once she had said that, Julius knew she was sold. Not because she hadn't told him no, but because her husband would do anything for a gold coin._

 _Giana and Alberto had been living in the fairly recently remodeled lower level of Malfoy Manor for two months now. It had been cut in half –a stone partition set in place where on the one half housed a plethora of house elves. The other half had been preserved as (nicer) living quarters had Julius ever gotten his hands on human servants again. Elena had been adamant about getting rid of it, but Julius had the final say. Seeing the turn of things he was glad that he had kept it._

 _Alberto was found to be quite useful in terms of gardening and so that's where he spent most of his time. Giana on the other hand upheld her title as seamstress and did wonders with the fabric members of the family brought to her. Even though it was evident she hated herself for being employed by a_ _ **Malfoy**_ _of all people, she thoroughly enjoyed the work._

" _Hold still." Giana said as she held Julius' wrist in one hand and her wand in the other. As she did so she remarked the ring that he wore. It was a new piece of jewelry given to him by his wife as an anniversary present. It was lovely. An emerald stone set in a platinum band. It probably cost more than all the wages she would receive from Julius in ten years. "Hold still, I said! I need to cut off a bit of fabric from this cuff."_

 _Julius let out an exasperated groan but eventually nodded. Despite his acquiescence the sudden breeze that came through the window and knocked over a photo in a frame drew his attention. His arm moved, and the spell sliced both the palm of his hand and the back of Giana's. He yanked his hand from her as she tended to herself._

" _Bloody hell!"_

" _Cavolo!"_

" _You did that on purpose!" Julius accused. Giana glared at him harshly._

" _And cut myself as well? I don't think so."_

" _ **Giana…**_ _"_

 _Giana rolled her eyes. He only ever said her first name when he was growing angry. She pointed her wand at the back of her hand and watched as the wound healed. "Saying my name won't help your hand. Come here."_

 _Julius abhorred the idea of being ordered around like a child or a common man, but he walked over to her nonetheless. She took his hand in hers, turned it over, and raised her wand to the cut. In a second it was as good as new with the exception of drying blood. Giana stared at it. She could see her own dried blood in the folds of skin between her thumb and forefinger where it had begun running down._

" _Humph," She said softly. Julius eyed her curiously._

" _What?"_

" _Your blood… It's red like mine. It has dried like mine. And it'll be cleared away by a simple spell like mine." Giana looked up at him and frowned. "It's exactly like mine and yet you treat me differently because I have muggle lineage. Had you not seen my occasional muggle habits, would you have known? If you saw me with a wand and performing magic, would you know_ _ **on the spot**_ _that both of my parents are muggles? Would you?"_

 _Julius wanted nothing more than to ignore her questions because he knew the answers. Had he simply seen her as a witch, blood status aside, he would have thought her a beautiful and feisty woman. Someone who rivaled his temper and his status as a man. And yet the fact that he knew her blood status didn't change his thoughts about her. His next words were said without thinking and he immediately regretted it._

" _I wish I didn't know about your blood."_

"… _And if you didn't?"_

 _Julius sighed. He placed his other hand on top of hers and held it dearly. "I would've had my way with you by now."_

 _Giana's shock was palpable. "B-but you're married."_

" _What man is always faithful?" Julius dared to chuckle then and leaned close so as to whisper into her ear. "Or woman, for that matter?"_

 _Giana swallowed as Julius slowly increased their proximity. She gently removed her hand from his and set her arm by her side. "I suppose it's good then that you know my blood status."_

 _Julius nodded. "It's very good."_

* * *

 _ **October 1819**_

 _When Julius had gotten married, his father had given him a man-to-man talk. He reminded him to make sure that his wife stayed in line, make sure his future children followed the Malfoy ways, to make money a priority equal to family, and to be careful when having an affair. The carefulness that his father had alluded to had nothing to do with keeping it a secret from his wife. Women weren't foolish when it came to their men, and it would be stupid to think otherwise. No, the care that his father had warned him of was of children._

 _Unfortunately Julius had failed in that regard. Two months after his confession in his bedroom, the dynamics between him and Giana had changed. They tried to ignore the tension in the air. Arguments would arise quickly and escalate out of proportions. It was all a rouse in order to mask the terrible, sensual thoughts that they had of one another. It had worked for the most part. That is until one fateful night in October of the previous year when they were the only ones in Malfoy Manor. Elena had traveled alone to visit a family friend whom Julius detested and outright refused to see. His parents had gone away to celebrate their anniversary and Alberto had been granted permission to go to Italy for a week to take care of his ill father. Giana had wanted to go, naturally, but Julius had needed her sewing expertise for an upcoming event._

 _It was a fight that had sparked their first lustful night with each other. Giana was grumbling endlessly about how Julius only wanted to have her all to himself. The party he was going to was a full two months away and it didn't take her that long to create dress robes for him now that she was accustomed to his likes and dislikes. Julius had feigned ignorance as he knew full well that she was right. And the more he brushed her comments off, the angrier she became. And the angrier she became, the more flushed her skin grew. He couldn't take it any longer. Julius suddenly reached for her wand, chucked it aside, and kissed her. Surprised was an understatement, but Giana didn't pull away._

 _And with that first encounter there were others. And somewhere among those others, a bundle of joy had taken residence within her womb. It was a rare sight to see Julius afraid, but he had never been so scared when Giana had told him. A steady stream of tears had accompanied her confession, but Julius' protective nature had kicked in. "Alberto won't leave you." He had said although it pained him to do so. Her next set of words stunned him into silence, however. "It's not him that I'm crying over. Honestly, I could care less if he stayed. I'm terrified for the child. If anyone found out that it's yours-"_

" _No one will." Julius reassured her. "I promise you that."_

 _And now with his son at two weeks old his fear fluctuated continuously. The boy had been born with the_ _ **faintest**_ _brown hair and brown eyes. He looked like Giana, or at least that's what Julius told himself. It was with good fortune that the boy didn't leave the living quarters where Giana and Alberto lived. He would eventually, of course. But until then Julius chose to live on the bright side of things._

" _Young Master Malfoy," a house elf addressed him after appearing in Julius' study. "Your father requests your presence in his wing."_

 _Julius stiffened. It was rare for his father to feel the need to meet with him and with such urgency. He got to his feet and made his way at a steady pace to his parents' wing of the Manor. He found his father in a study equivalent to his own and closed the door after him. What surprised him was not the relaxed way in which his father, Roland, sat in the armchair at his lavish desk, but it was the fact that Elena was there as well, her face as steely and hard as the eldest Malfoy in the room._

" _Elena, darling," Roland said calmly. "Is there something that you wish to say to your husband?"_

" _Yes," She said in a hot tone. "I knew that this would happen. It didn't surprise me. What did, however, was the fact that it happened_ _ **to me**_ _._ _ **Again**_ _."_

" _Again?" Julius repeated, but before he could pry much further his father had joined in._

" _We're not blind, nor are you the least bit stealthy, my dear son. The affair, although your wife may have a different opinion, I can overlook. The_ _ **child**_ _, on the other hand, I cannot."_

 _Julius' face blanched although he continued to stand his ground. "…Giana has a husband. The boy is his."_

" _According to the midwife the boy was born with blonde hair. Darkish blonde, but blonde nevertheless. Neither mudblood has blonde hair, Julius."_

 _Julius' lips thinned as his anger grew. "_ _ **You spoke with the midwife?**_ _"_

" _I did." Elena answered. "I did it to soothe my worries as well as my thoughts. I just… I simply didn't think that I would be reliving this_ _ **hell**_ _. Of course, I knew the risk. The risk of remarrying into the Malfoy family, but who would've thought that I would marry you twice over?" It was here that Elena laughed hysterically as Julius began to fear for his wife's sanity. "I suppose not only you and Matilda are destined to be with one another."_

" _Elena, what in Merlin's name are you talking about? You're not making any sense."_

" _A curse, my dear." She said as she brandished her wand. "A century old curse involving you and your mudblood lover. And now it has come to the point of the curse where your love affair is ended…_ _ **permanently**_ _."_

 _Julius' composure faltered as he rose into a heightened panic. The Cruciatus Curse hit him squarely in the chest and he fell to the ground. He convulsed wildly, feeling muscles stretch beyond normal capacity and bones grind against one another. His back arched, his teeth clenched, and his toes curled. Elena lifted the curse and Julius' body relaxed, various twitches still evident. Just when he thought it was over the curse overtook him yet again. He was sure blood vessels would pop at this rate. Bones, instead of grinding simply moved out of place. Julius was sure that his teeth were breaking. It went on like this for what felt like an eternity. It was all Elena did. Curse on, curse off, curse on, curse off. Eventually the pain no longer bothered him. His heart had thumped erratically to the point where it simply stopped. Elena ended the curse when the screams stopped escaping Julius' lips._

 _She looked over at Roland who had sat at his desk motionless throughout the entire ordeal. His words were distant. "I thought your intention was to kill Giana?"_

" _It was."_

" _And yet you've killed my son."_

 _Elena stared at him and raised her head high. "You let me."_

 _Roland smirked at her and then nodded. "Yes, yes I did. Julius has shamed us all. Luckily you and my late son have already borne a Malfoy heir. Our loss of him won't be great. Although I must say that I am still quite upset with you, Elena. The curse you have inflicted on the Malfoy family line is horrendous."_

 _Elena huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Tell that to your ancestor."_

 _Roland ungentlemanly sucked his teeth. "_ _ **I am**_ _. I won't have this catastrophe happening again."_

 _Roland pushed himself out of his chair, wand in hand, and pointed it at his dead son's right hand. "Accio ring,"_

 _The gold-infused platinum ring flew off of Julius' hand and into Roland's. He raised the ring level to his eyes as he spoke. "It will take quite a bit of complicated magic, but a warning to my descendants of your hideous ways will be created. Once a Malfoy wears it he will be reminded of the dreadful fate that awaits him if he ever dares to love a mudblood. As a failsafe mudblood hatred will run rampant through our family. I'll see to it. This nonsense will_ _ **never**_ _again take place."_

 _Elena scoffed from behind and shook her head at him. "A cursed ring to ward off a curse? Oh, Roland, I can't wait to see how that works out."_

 _Roland scowled. "Well until then, deal with the mudblood family in my Manor."_

" _With pleasure. Since Julius is gone there's no need to kill Giana. Besides, what's the point of a curse if no one suffers?"_

" _Then she will suffer greatly." Roland nodded. "Kill her husband and then the boy."_

 _Elena paused. "Her husband, I understand. But the boy? He's only an infant; an innocent child with_ _ **Malfoy blood**_ _I might add."_

" _Malfoy blood sullied with that of a mudblood." Roland sneered viciously as he gazed at his dead son on the floor. "The boy won't share in any Malfoy privilege. See that it's done."_

* * *

 **Author's note:** Now you know about the ring! As Elena (Amelia) said, a curse to ward off a curse.

This is by far my favorite chapter, mostly for the scene with Elena, Roland, and Julius. It really puts things in perspective and explains a bit. Particularly about Amelia… Some of you were wondering about her and whether or not she might be reincarnated too. So, the answer's no, but she never died at all! Got to love twists…

And can we take a moment to reflect on ROLAND?! Worse than Elena/Amelia, maybe? He is her descendant after all, so maybe evil just ran in the family from then on *shrug.*

Hope that this chapter met your expectations :)

-WP


	9. Painful Consequences

**March 2005**

Hermione snapped her eyes open and bolted upright. Her chest was heaving wildly as she stared all around her. She patted herself. She patted the bed. She had to make sure that she was real and that she was back where she was supposed to be and not watching a terrible sight. Julius was a prick. It was evident and Hermione cheered her past self on at how she confronted the man without fear. But even then, no one deserved to die the way he did. Her skin crawled as she remembered his screams. The way his body arched and flexed. The way his veins pushed against his flesh.

Then there was Amelia, or Elena as she was known back then. The woman had been alive and looked just as young as she did when she had killed Matilda. Hermione wondered what her life had been like then. To live a hundred years, most likely in silence, until she had met and fallen for a Malfoy for the second time. It unnerved her just at the mere incest of it all. She could practically feel her gag reflexes kicking in.

And then there was the ring. Julius' father had been the one to curse it. It was meant to ward off any potential love connections between any Malfoy and a muggleborn. Hermione could imagine it; the ring being passed down from father to son throughout the ages and the dreams and visions that would scare them into having pureblood lovers and partners. That and the brainwashing. Roland had been the start of it all. Yes, there had already been a certain stigma around muggleborns, but not great enough seeing as Julius had so eagerly allowed Giana and her husband into his home. No, Roland had been the one who had begun filling his family with terrible thoughts of muggleborns and their inferiority. There was no way she could blame Draco now for his condescending and hateful remarks over the years. They were a consequence of a man's fear for his coming generations. Not that it made the situation right…

Just then Hermione looked to her left, completely forgetting that Draco was there on the bed with her. But when she took sight of him her heart began its erratic streak yet again. He hadn't woken up from the dream. Instead he was convulsing just as Julius had been when hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

"Malfoy!" Hermione shouted. She leaned over and slapped his face repeatedly. "Malfoy! Malfoy, damn it, answer me!"

As she shook his shoulders she could feel the veins under his skin. Draco's tongue would be swallowed and blood vessels would soon explode if his body didn't stop its wild arches. Hermione was panicking. She spotted the ring on his finger and slipped it off with her fingers without thinking of the consequences of touching it. Said consequence was one, _long_ shot of the Cruciatus Curse rippling through her body. Her body rolled back onto the bed as her head snapped viciously to the left and right as pain reverberated from her midsection and spread through her chest and limbs. Hermione clamped down on her teeth, _hard_ , and released them once the pain stopped.

Her breathing was shallow and rough. She fought through the involuntary twitches her body shook with as she leaned back over Draco. He had stopped shaking. He was so still that Hermione feared him to be dead. A quick check of his pulse told her that he wasn't, but that didn't clear him from having any internal damages. With great difficulty, Hermione climbed off of the bed. She collapsed to the floor immediately when her legs gave out on her, but she was walking on them again a moment later. She levitated Draco's body behind her as she went in search of a fireplace. She found one two doors down and carefully set him inside. Hermione stepped inside as well and after crying out, "St. Mungo's!" the pair was whisked away.

Falling out of St. Mungo's visitor's entrance hadn't been good for Hermione. The moment she hit the ground she fell over and twitched uncontrollably. She could've just imagined what Draco looked like after getting hit with…how many Cruciatus Curses?" She didn't get to find out. Hermione was being levitated by a Healer and taken away. From a distance she saw Draco being lifted into the air also, trembling just as bad as she thought he would be. Hermione prayed furiously that he would be okay.

* * *

 **April 2005**

Hermione spent five days in the hospital. She had two sprained ribs, a nearly broken one, and had suffered whiplash in her neck. All of that was from one cast of the Cruciatus Curse. Her body felt weaker than it already was when she asked the Healer about Draco and his condition. The Healer's face was grim as he replied, "Mr. Malfoy is…in critical condition. Stable, but critical."

Aurors had come to see her after her second day. Seeing as two of their own had been admitted there and under dire circumstances, they were asking her what had happened. What could Hermione tell them? A cursed ring of past memories had Crucioed her and Draco? She could have, but then questions of the ring's origin and the fact that it should've been in the Ministry Lockdown Room would arise. Instead she pushed down her guilt and lied. She said that she and Draco had left the Ministry together late and when they got to the apparation spot (a very well-hidden alley) they were attacked by someone they couldn't see. The Aurors wouldn't find any reason for Hermione to lie and so they took her word for it.

The Monday of the following week Hermione had signed her discharge papers on the condition that she would get ample rest at home. The Ministry had given her leave for a month considering her injuries, and she would get more if she felt that she needed it. Despite her orders to go home and rest, she spent the majority of her time finding a comfortable spot in a tight armchair at Draco's beside. Every time she looked at him pain emanated from her chest. Day after day his condition remained the same. Healers came to bathe him. Healers fed him through special magical tubing. Healers massaged the non-sensitive areas of his body so as to keep his blood circulating. That particular part of his care was always short as most of his body was considered a sensitive area due to his bodily damage.

And what a damage it was. At first Healers didn't want to tell her what was wrong with him –patient confidentiality and the fact that she wasn't family. Hermione argued with them that as an Auror she had a right to know as it would help with the investigation of his and her attack. It was a conniving use of her position at the Ministry, but it had done the job. Three sets of Draco's ribs were broken, two sets sprained. Several of his blood vessels were strained to the point of possible breaking. It was one of the things that Healers checked him around the clock for. Both of Draco's shoulders had come out of their sockets, six of his fingers were broken as well as four of his toes. His tongue had nearly been bitten all the way off and, worst of all, his heart had failed _twice_ since being admitted to St. Mungo's.

Hermione felt drained. She could no longer sleep. Every time she tried she was filled with dreams of Julius under the Cruciatus Curse except with Draco's face. The screams stayed in her ears long after waking up which caused a relapse in her post-Cruciatus Curse symptoms. Sometimes they got so bad that she would drop whatever she was holding and crumble to the floor with trembling hands and vicious leg jerks. After telling a Healer about her symptoms she was given something to lessen the blow. The symptoms couldn't go away with a potion, but had to naturally flee the system. "A mind over matter thing," so the Healer had told her. It was almost like shell-shock, he explained further and Hermione smiled at him. Only someone of muggle heritage would attempt to explain a condition such as hers with a term like "shell-shock."

As days turned into weeks, and those weeks into a month and then some, Hermione thought about Amelia. How in Merlin's name had she survived for so long? _And_ without having aged a day? One answer, and the only answer that she could give, was something akin to the philosopher's stone. Alchemy was still a heavy practice during her time so it was possible. But a second question was raised along with the first, why would Amelia want to sustain her life like that? What was the benefit? Just to see Cornelius' future selves in despair?

Hermione sighed, unable to think and unable to provide any answer; especially without Draco seeing as entrance to the libraries and journals required a Malfoy's touch. There was still the ring, but she had banned herself from going near it ever again.

"Hermione?"

"Harry?" She said in surprise. She stared at her friend over Draco's body and took in his face. He looked almost as exhausted as she did, and that was saying something. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." Harry walked into the room and shut the door after him. "I went to your place, but since you weren't there or with anybody else that we knew I figured…"

"Right," Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Your deductive reasoning skills are on point as always."

"Eh, not really. St. Mungo's has become like your third home. And speaking of home, you should be resting."

"It's been over a month, Harry. I'm fine."

Harry's eyes instinctively went to her hands which trembled. They were always steady for the most part until the topic of conversation went into an unsavory direction. Sitting next to Draco's comatose body certainly didn't help the situation. Hermione noticed where Harry's attention was and she cupped her hands.

"Did you want to see me about something specific?"

"Yeah, actually. I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. Your and Malfoy's case has gone cold. We can't get a single lead. It would help a great deal if we had a witness, but since there isn't any, the case simply can't go anywhere."

Hermione stared distantly and wrung her hands nervously. "Oh,"

"You know, 'Mione." Harry began, making sure to choose his words wisely. "There's something that I just can't seem to get out of my head. I just find it a bit strange that both you _and_ Malfoy were working late and that you left _together_. I know you two aren't enemies per se, but you're not exactly best friends either."

Hermione shifted in her seat, choosing to look at Draco rather than at Harry. "Malfoy had some residual effects of an artefact he'd handled and I helped him. It took longer than expected, that's all."

Harry huffed. "Sure… Listen, you don't want to tell me, fine. But don't lie to me about it."

A guilt bubble exploded inside of her. With a soft groan she looked up at her friend who looked more concerned about her rather than angry. "I'm sorry. This _thing_ is more about Malfoy and I got roped into it. I wouldn't feel comfortable telling you about it unless Malfoy was okay with it too. But trust me, Harry, please. We've got it covered."

Harry's eyes gravitated to Draco and then he cocked a brow at her. " _This_ is having it covered?"

Hermione's hands started to tremble again and she held them tightly in order to keep them steady. "Believe it or not, yes."

Harry sighed, knowing when his friend's mind was made up. "If you say so. Just know that you've got me if you need any help."

Hermione smiled at him and nodded as he turned to leave. Before he was gone she hastily called him back. "Elena Malfoy," She said to him. "Can you search the census records and find out what happened to her? I don't know what year she might have lived, but you can narrow it down somewhere around the nineteenth century."

"Nineteenth century? That's what you call narrowing it down?"

Hermione shrugged. "She was married to Julius Malfoy, if that helps."

Harry chuckled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah…like _that_ helps. But sure, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** So, it suddenly dawned on me that I'm going to be prepping/eating food for the Thanksgiving holiday starting tomorrow, so I wouldn't have any time to post on Thursday. So, early chapter it is!

I felt SO BAD writing this chapter because of how hurt Draco got. But I mean you've got to admit, ten Cruciatus Curses? All lasting a long time? Yeah, there's going to be plenty damage if not death. At least he's got Hermione watching over him at his bedside :)

Hope that you liked it like the others! Thanks for all of your support!

-WP


	10. Stolen Property

**May 2005**

Hermione had a new routine. She got up, went to work, headed to St. Mungo's to sit by Draco's bedside, fell asleep in her chair, woke up between three and four am, went home to sleep in her bed, and then repeated it all again. She was told repeatedly by her friends that her habits weren't good, not to mention it was interfering with her work. Although the trembling and random body twitches had stopped early in the month, they occasionally came back in full force and at the most inopportune moments. The last time it happened was two days ago when she was attempting to fix an Auror's eye. It didn't go well…

She had taken two weeks off that afternoon and now spent her entire days in Draco's hospital room. With a sigh she tried for the fifth time to read the book she had brought with her. It was a bit hard seeing as her mind was distracted, not to mention it was hard to turn a page one-handedly. Her other hand was clasped around Draco's. As Hermione was reading the book dropped from her as she gasped. It wasn't just her hand doing the clasping anymore. Draco was holding hers tightly and his eyes had suddenly snapped open.

"I need a Healer!" Hermione shouted. "I need a Healer in here now!"

Hermione stared wide-eyed with her heart running wild. She tried to release her hand from Draco's grasp so that the Healers could tend to him properly, but he wouldn't let go and his grip was too tight to simply slip it. So there she stood, watching the Healers check his vitals, his eyes, _everything_. They were hesitant on removing the tubing from him, but even with one stuffed down his throat Hermione knew the blonde was cursing up a storm. Once it and the Healers were gone Draco rounded off a load of questions.

Hermione massaged her temple to ease her headache. "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy you just woke up from a coma. Will you just rest?"

"No," Draco said indignantly. "Not until you tell me how long I've been out."

"…Two months."

Draco's face paled. "You're not serious."

"It's May, Malfoy." Hermione frowned. She felt her eyes water as she continued to speak to him. "You've been here so long that I thought… I thought you were never coming back. I thought that the curse had worked and that this was it."

Hermione couldn't do it. She tried to hold back tears that had flowed freely and frequently when Draco was still comatose. Now that he was awake she felt utterly embarrassed. Draco saw all of this and remarked how badly she shook. Despite how much it pained him, he sat up further and pulled Hermione closed to him. His forehead rested on hers and he closed his eyes.

"You're not supposed to fall for me, Granger. Remember?"

Hermione laughed and placed her hands on the back of his neck. "Oh, shut up."

* * *

 **June 2005**

Draco spent the last week and a half of May and the first three days of June whining about when he'd be able to go home. Hermione spent it slowly sipping a calming potion every three hours so he didn't drive her crazy. Once he was finally home, he only whined further about why he was being confined to his bed by his sort-of girlfriend.

Hermione rolled her eyes and wished she hadn't finished off her store of calming potion the day before. "You were comatose _for two months_ because you were hit with the Cruciatus Curse _ten times_. By all rights you should be dead. Since you're not, you're going to take it easy."

Draco groaned, crossed his arms over his chest, winced, and scowled when he saw Hermione smiling at him. He hated when she was right. "Alright fine. What about Potter? No news at all on what happened to Elena, Amelia, whatever the hell her name is?"

"None," Hermione sighed as she lay down next to Draco. "I'm beginning to think that there's simply nothing to find. I've started looking for anything under Amelia Malfoy as well, but nothing's turned up there either. She's worked _very_ hard to keep herself undetected."

Draco scoffed. "And a good way to do that is to marry into the Malfoy family a second time? Completely stupid, if you ask me."

"I agree. And who knows? If she did it a second time, maybe she did it a third."

"Humph, then she's more than stupid."

"You're right…" Hermione said after a moment's pause. She turned to Draco in excitement and then hurriedly climbed off the bed. "Malfoy, _she's_ _cursed_. She's cursed just like we are. She can't help but gravitate to the Malfoy line!"

"If that's the case then things are out of order." Draco furrowed his brow. "She should've been my girlfriend or wife by now, but you and I are together instead."

Hermione's steam engine of thought ran cold. He was right. Things were backwards. If she and Draco were following in both Cornelius and Matilda's and Julius and Giana's footsteps, then how was Amelia able to get away from her own?

"It doesn't matter." Hermione said eventually. "You almost died. The curse is working and we need to find Amelia. She's the only one who can reverse it."

Draco agreed and began shifting himself out of bed despite Hermione's protests. "This is no time to baby me, Granger. We've got my family tree to dig through."

Hermione pouted. Yes, he had been released from St. Mungo's but he had been warned to take it slow. Thanks to magic his tongue had been mended easily as well as his fingers and toes. The same went for his shoulders as they had been popped back into the place the same day he had been admitted. His blood vessels had been the tricky part and took an incredibly long surgery that included an insane amount of spells and potions to restore and strengthen them. His ribs were less difficult to deal with. As for Draco's heart, it was one of the few organs that magic was temperamental with. Protective barriers had been put in place as well as a bit of reconstruction after the second time his heart had failed. The whole "take it easy" instruction from the Healers hadn't been because of his other injuries. It was because any strenuous activity could break the barriers and make him vulnerable to a whole plethora of complications. Draco knew that this is what worried Hermione every time he moved a muscle.

Draco and Hermione each carried a bundle of parchment rolls and eagerly looked through them. In the dream they both had caught glimpse of a calendar, but only first two numbers "18." It was why Hermione had suggested to Harry to check around the nineteenth century for any record of Elena Malfoy. Everything about this crazy situation was nothing but patterns. From the way Hermione and Draco's past selves met and got together, to the gruesome ways that they died, and the fact that Amelia was always involved. If she had resurfaced after one hundred years, then it was a safe bet that that was when she had appeared yet again. They scoured the family trees until they got their answer.

"There she is." Draco said as he sneered at her pleasant face. "Ivanna _Amelia_ Malfoy, née Lovell. Married to Orion Tiberius Malfoy in 1925. Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick."

"What? Why?" Hermione said in alarm, but he only pointed to a photo beneath the couple's own.

"My grandfather was her son. Abraxas Malfoy,"

"Now _I_ think I'm going to be sick."

Hermione leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Alright, so we know her last known name. We can try searching the records for her again, but with the other two failures I doubt it'll be helpful."

"Maybe we don't have to." Draco said as a lopsided grin filled his face. "We'll look at the journals again. Orion had to have mentioned his wife and my grandfather had to have mentioned his mother."

Hermione's ecstatic smile matched his and they hurried their steps back to marble-floored room that held all of the Malfoy family journals. Draco searched the backs of journals looking for Orion's name on the spines. When he found it he eagerly reached for a few of the journals and handed them to Hermione. He grabbed the rest and they piled the small books on the room's table and took up their respective seats so they could get to work. As Hermione opened one journal her face faltered. It was empty. The journal was nothing but white pages –not a single word, not a single streak of ink, not even a punctuation.

"Malfoy,"

"This can't be." Draco said breathlessly. He had begun picking up journal after journal and flipping through pages only to find it the same for every single one. Draco jumped out of his seat with a vigor that made Hermione fear for his health, especially when he held the left side of his body as he scanned the shelves yet again. He sat on his heels as he picked out his grandfather's journals. He felt the covers and the backs as though they were precious objects and peeled through each one, finding them the same as Orion's.

"Damn it!" He shouted as he tossed the tenth one aside. He looked back over his shoulder at Hermione who had begun walking towards him. "How could this have happened? They can't be gone!"

"They're not gone; they're just blank." Hermione said, but Draco shook his head.

"No, they're gone, Granger. Someone didn't wipe these journals clean of their contents. They were replaced. The journals we write in are made with a special leather that _no one_ can get their hands on but a Malfoy; no matter how much money they're willing to pay for it. These," Draco raised a discarded journal. "Are fakes. I just don't know how Amelia did it."

"Couldn't have been very hard," Hermione surmised. "Amelia's a Malfoy three times over, not to mention she used to live here. She had access to these journals just as much as you do now."

"Doesn't matter. Nothing gets stolen from Malfoy Manor. _Nothing_."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Nothing except the ring."

The realization hit Draco hard. Yes, it had been just about fifty years ago when the ring had disappeared from the Manor. The story of the theft had been told to him by his grandfather who had already been married at the time. It was possible. It was _highly_ possible.

Draco groaned as he turned to Hermione. "Owl Potter. We're going to need his help."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Amelia's a sneaky one, isn't she? Boy oh boy does she know how to cover her tracks. But good news! Draco's awake and he's home from the hospital and Hermione's his "sort-of girlfriend." Now let's just hope that Harry can be of some help.

Thanks for the support everyone! You guys are great :D

-WP


	11. Questions, Answers, and Proposals

**June 2005**

Harry sat in Draco's study downtrodden with information overload. Hermione bit her bottom lip in silence after just having explained everything that had been going on over the past few months. Every time Harry opened his mouth to say something he just stopped, paused, and then retreated back into his thoughts.

"Anything ticking in there, Potter?" Draco drawled. He suffered a glare from Hermione, but he didn't take back his words. Harry looked up at him and took a deep breath.

"Seven years of what I went through is nothing compared to this."

"Tell me about it." Hermione sighed. "But it'll be over as soon as we get our hands on Amelia. That's why we need your help."

"That and the fact that Granger won't let me leave my Manor without being encased in a cushioned body suit." Draco grumbled. Harry understood the concern and agreed with Hermione that he shouldn't be going anywhere.

"Where did you find the ring?"

"The old abandoned shoppe in Worchester Square." Draco answered. "It was under the floorboard."

"Under the floorboard?" Harry repeated. "How did you find it then?"

Draco rolled his eyes and snapped at him. "How else do I find the priceless, cursed artefacts it's my job to find?" He sighed, apologized for his shortness and spoke again. "…But even then it was different. The ring called to me. Even if I wasn't already looking for cursed objects I would've found it anyway."

"Well, it looks like our first step is to ask the shoppe owner."

"It was _old and abandoned_ , Potter. The only reason it got raided in the first place was because of the bloody squatters."

"Doesn't mean that the place wasn't once owned by somebody, Malfoy." Harry said hotly. He turned to Hermione then and waited for her reaction. "Andromeda Tonks."

" _Andromeda_?" Hermione choked. "How does she play in all of this?"

"I don't know, but the shoppe was in her name. I remember because I was the one who sent the team out to raid it in the first place. None of the illegal stuff we found there had anything to do with her, we know. It was all the squatters'. But with this ring and with the Black and Malfoy families so close…"

"You don't have to sell the information on us." Draco said. "Go talk to her. I'll stay here and _rest_."

Hermione smiled comfortingly at him and gave him the gentlest hug she could. When she pulled away she cupped his face. "We'll come back as soon as we're finished. Hopefully with something valuable instead of more questions."

"Okay,"

Draco gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, bid his adieus to Harry, and slowly made his way out of the room. Hermione turned back to her friend who had just stared at the exchange with his mouth hanging open. With all the explaining that she had done, she had neglected to mention that she and Draco were…well, it was hard to place but they were _something_.

Harry closed his mouth and shook the image from his head before standing up. "Let's go."

* * *

Andromeda was always happy to have Harry in her home, but when he said it was business, not pleasure, she was more than surprised. Regardless, she allowed him to come with Hermione at his heels. When Harry walked out of the fireplace he wasn't only met with a smiling Andromeda sitting on her sofa with tea waiting, but also the arms of a child wrapped around his legs.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy yelled into Harry's jeans.

"Hey, kiddo. I'm liking the hair. It's very, um, _green_."

Teddy looked up at him and grinned. His hair was a bright neon green today with darker streaks of green embedded.

"It was purple this morning." Andromeda said, clearly not a fan of the rainbow colors Teddy was so eager to explore on a daily basis. "Teddy, why don't you head to your room and play? Uncle Harry and I are going to talk for a bit."

"Okay. Bye Uncle Harry! Hi, Aunt Hermione, bye Aunt Hermione!"

Teddy ran off excitedly and up the stairs in direction of his room. Harry smiled at the kid and sat down opposite Andromeda. Hermione sat in the armchair at an angle from the pair.

"You're looking well, Andromeda." Hermione expressed to her. The older woman grinned and poured tea for herself and her guests.

"Why thank you, Hermione. I try my best, especially with a little boy who likes to change his appearance every hour. So, what brings the two of you by today?"

"Well, we wanted to ask you about two things." Hermione began. "First, do you know anything about a Malfoy family ring? It wouldn't have been used for wearing as it was, _is_ cursed. It's got an emerald stone set in a platinum band. The old Malfoy motto is inscribed in it as well as the letter 'M.'"

"Oh, well I wouldn't know anything about that. That would be more of a Draco Malfoy question, wouldn't it?" Andromeda said with her brows raised.

"Normally it would, if the ring hadn't been stolen from Malfoy Manor about fifty years ago."

"That and the fact that it was found under the floorboard of a shoppe in Worchester Square under _your_ name." Harry added. Andromeda sputtered in surprise.

"Under the floorboard? Shoppe? _My name?_ " Andromeda was flustered, but the feeling passed quickly. She paused, thought for a moment, and then laughed. She laughed loudly and long, garnering confused looks from Harry and Hermione who thought the woman had gone mad. "Oh, that is rich! Rich and well-played…"

"Um, Andromeda?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Exactly what's 'rich and well-played?'"

"Please, excuse me Harry." She replied, a smile still on her lips and dabbing her fingers at her eyes. "I just couldn't help myself. You see, I had always wondered why my father had left me anything at all after he died. My face had been _blasted_ off the Black family tree after all. But now I know why. He left me the shoppe in order to indirectly give me a curse and suffer whatever ill-fated consequences came along with it.

'I never set foot inside. I was through with him and the entire family and therefore wanted nothing of his. I was given the keys and I threw them in a roaring fire, leaving the shoppe to rot. I'm sorry that I couldn't have been more help to you."

"No, no, you've been an excellent help, Andromeda." Hermione thanked pleasantly as she stood. "We should probably get going."

"Thanks for talking to us." Harry added. "I'll pass by for Teddy on Friday as usual."

Andromeda beamed. "Of course, see you then."

* * *

"Just once, _just once_ can we ever get answers without more questions?" Draco groaned bitterly as he regrettably banged his head against the wall. Hermione shared his frustration as she stared up at the ceiling. Harry was sitting beside her unsure of what to say to soothe his friend or Draco's woes. He may not have full grasp of the current situation, but he did understand that the pair was at a stalemate. They had no way to find Amelia, and the one person who may have known where to find her was Cygnus, Andromeda's father, who had long been dead and had somehow gained possession of the ring. A ring that Cygnus somehow thought could harm his daughter when in reality it couldn't.

"There's nothing more we can do for now, so you'd might as well go home, Harry." Hermione said as she turned to him. "Besides, Ginny's probably on the verge of sending out a search party for you."

Harry nodded, understanding that she also wanted to speak with Draco alone. He said his goodbyes to Draco who acknowledged him with a distracted grunt and left via the fireplace in the room. Hermione stared at Draco. He was standing by a large window, staring but not really seeing what he was looking at. She knew that if she didn't rip him from his thoughts they would only fester and cause him grief. She knew because her own thoughts were doing the same.

"Do you think it'll come back around?" Draco suddenly asked. Hermione scrunched her brows in confusion and he twisted his body to face her when she didn't respond. "Death, I mean. He missed out on getting his cold, scaly hands on me, so I was thinking he'll come back. Or not." His face was hard and serious as he stared at her. There was also a bit of fright in there too. "Maybe he'll come for you instead."

Hermione gulped and looked down at her hands. They were in the middle of yet another shaking fit and soon Draco's hand was covering hers to still them.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be." Hermione smiled grimly at him. "You didn't say anything that I haven't been thinking myself. But just because things are looking a little…unpleasant, it doesn't mean that our time is up just yet. Cornelius and Matilda had almost a full year. Julius and Giana had a year and a couple months _and_ a child."

Draco cocked a brow in the air and smirked. "Planning on having a kid with me, Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You know that's not what I meant to say. I'm just saying that we have time. Or at least we should. I… I hope that we do."

Draco gazed into Hermione's hopeful face and gently pulled her up from the sofa. He closed the space between them and cupped her cheek with his hand. "In that case we shouldn't waste any time thinking about which one us is going to die and when. At the very least we shouldn't do it on my birthday."

"Your birthday?" Hermione repeated. If there was one thing that she had been concerned with, or more or less obsessed over lately, it was dates. There was no way that Draco's birthday could sneak up on her so suddenly, but it sure seemed it had. He had been released from St. Mungo's yesterday, and as she peered over his shoulder to the clock on his fireplace mantle, it was past midnight. "Oh!" She gasped at the realization and then produced her first genuine smile in days. "Happy Birthday, Malfoy. I'm sorry that I don't have any sort of gift to give you."

"That's where you're wrong." Draco wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head forward to nuzzle his face in her neck. Hermione closed her eyes at the intimacy, trying to remember the last time she had ever felt so comfortable in a man's arms. "You _are_ the gift."

A gift, Draco had called her. A gift he had no problems unwrapping with painstaking patience. He had led Hermione by the hand from the study and down long corridors to his bedroom. Hermione couldn't help but admire his audacity. He hadn't asked. He had simply taken her silence as permission and proceeded to close the door once they were inside. Hermione stood in the middle of the room, arms by her sides as she watched Draco watch her. Wordlessly and without taking his eyes off of her, he began to slowly unbutton his shirt; slipping it off of himself with a visible flinch.

Hermione was unable to register his face after that. Her only focus was on his naked torso where she could see faint scars from where Healers had cut into him and bruises where the Cruciatus Curse had strained him. When Draco finally stood in front of her, Hermione's hands had gravitated to them –to every form of hurt that served as a bitter reminder of the predicament they were in. That there was someone out there who didn't want them to be happy, and a three-century-year-old curse that would see to their end.

She had been so lost in her thoughts that the only realization that her blouse had also been unbuttoned was when she felt a cool, summer's night breeze hitting her chest. Hermione looked down at herself and then up at Draco. She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "What makes you think that I want to be your gift?" She asked in a whisper.

Under any other circumstances her words would seem rude, but to Draco they were teasing and such a… _Hermione_ thing to say. He smiled and began to kiss, not her lips, but just behind her ear. He began there, pausing to nibble at her earlobe before gently cascading kisses and subtle tongue caresses down the length of her neck.

"Because you're letting me." Draco answered her question. Hermione scoffed at his logic, however correct it may have been. She smiled briefly at his lips when they finally found hers. She gasped in surprise when he grabbed her from behind and hoisted her up, her legs firmly wrapped around his waist. It was the best way to travel from the middle of the large room and over to his equally large bed after all. At first Hermione thought that Draco took their encounter slow because of the residual pain she was sure he had. But the more he kissed, the more he touched, the more their hips moved rhythmically with one other's, she began to realize that this was who he was as a lover.

Sweet, gentle, careful, and most importantly, patient.

As the sound of chirping birds grew louder with daybreak, Hermione lay on her side, her back facing Draco as her body calmed down from its previously excited state. Draco was awake just as she, taking a calm pleasure in running his fingers from her hips to her thighs repeatedly.

"Tell me something, Granger." Draco asked softly. "Do you speak Italian?"

Hermione craned her neck far enough to stare at him curiously at the randomness of the question. "Barely." She answered him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Besides, I'm more of a French girl, anyway."

"Hmm, that's too bad." He sighed, using his full palm now instead of his fingers to run down her body. He smirked at her as he did so, remarking how her skin began to flush. "If you did, that would've turned me on enough for us to have a second go."

Hermione's eyes widened then as she flipped her body enough to stare him in the face. "Why, Malfoy you little-!"

Draco laughed. He laughed hysterically as he pulled her red face with his hands and caught her lips in their millionth kiss for the night. As she rolled on top of him, careful not to hurt him unless only in pleasurable ways, Hermione realized that she had just lied to him. There was one Italian word that she knew, having been propelled to look it up after watching Julius and Giana's past. It was _strangolare_ –to strangle. And boy did he ever make her want to do that.

* * *

 **Author's note:** If you're familiar with my stories, then you know that there's always at least one chapter dedicated to a "calm before the storm." Draco and Hermione certainly deserve it after everything they've been through so far. I laughed to myself at the end because Draco is just so...Draco! Aside from that, we have another mystery to the puzzle that now involves Andromeda! Feel free to give me your theories if you've got them as I find them all really interesting to read :)

Oh, and if you're interested, do check out my profile. I've decided to post updates there (I don't know why I didn't think to do that earlier lol). So any notes that I have about late posts, replies, and most importantly, upcoming stories, I'll just post there so you can have a heads up :D

Thanks for the GREAT feedback everyone!

-WP


	12. Money Trail

**August 2005**

Hermione's routine had changed so much in these past few months it was ridiculous. These last few changes though she liked. Sometimes she woke at her usual time so that she could eat something proper and get ready for work, while other times (and often times) she would wake up earlier than necessary. She'd go to work and have lunch with either her friends in town or with Draco at his Manor. He was still on work leave until he was okayed by a Healer which irked him to no end. She'd work for a few more hours after lunch, head home to dress in something more comfortable, and then make her way to Malfoy Manor. Not once would she tumble out of the fireplace to be met with an empty room. Draco would always be there to greet her with a kiss and hug and, of course, at least one sarcastic remark. That remark would spark one from her, a smirk from him, a glare from her, and then somehow a pleasurable romp wherever they saw fit. Depending on whether or not she had packed work clothes with her, she would either wake up at her usual time or extra early to take in account of the distraction Draco would be.

Despite clearly being together, neither had made the attempt to make their "togetherness" official. Not to mention the use of last names kept their interest in one another on the non-intimate side, however paradoxical that was. Hermione and Draco both knew the reason why their relationship wasn't a relationship. Even though things were good now ( _really_ good), there was the sobering fact that everything could fall out from under them without warning. They still had no luck in locating where Amelia might be, and so they had taken to researching their hearts out on other ways to break bloodline curses.

After careful reading there were two options, one of which was completely out of the question. It involved destroying the object of the curse. The "object" or objects in this case were both Hermione and Draco. Draco had scoffed at the text, saying that it was one of the few times he had ever found erroneous information in a book. Hermione on the other hand forced him to reflect on a reason why this would work. In the past one of them always died, leaving the other to pine for the person that they had lost. But if they were both gone at the same time, there was no one to grieve over. They would have each other in whatever afterlife there was to greet them. Regardless of the logic, it was decided on the spot that they wanted each other in life, not death, and sought out the second option: to kill the castor of the curse.

It was a solution neither had a problem with pursuing since it had been their mission from the start. Draco in fact was at his happiest when thinking about the ways he'd like to do it. But of course they still had to find Amelia. Hermione bit the feather-end of her quill as she sat over a piece of parchment to drop down ideas on how they could find the elusive witch. The parchment was blank and the ink had dried on her quill long ago.

"You're going to fall asleep right where you are and make me carry you to bed again." Draco mused from the doorway. Hermione looked at him and smiled sheepishly. He had gone to his personal Owlery to schedule an appointment with a St. Mungo's Healer for his bi-monthly check-in. He had been recovering well and may even be ready to go back to work the following month –light duty, of course. Hermione had fully recovered from her residual symptoms as well and hadn't shaken in over a month.

"Has it never occurred to you that maybe I fall asleep in here just so I won't have to take the _incredibly_ long walk to your bedroom?"

"Well then," Draco said in faux shock. "I never thought I'd see the day where Miss Goody-Goody Granger would use someone for her selfish needs."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. She then squeaked embarrassingly when Draco walked over and picked her up in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"You obviously don't want to walk to my room. Now who's being the big baby?" Draco asked as he carried her out of the study she had now called home and throughout Malfoy Manor's halls. Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't protest the special treatment.

"I never called you a _big_ baby. I called you a baby."

"A baby nonetheless, you pretty, spoiled brat."

Hermione laughed yet again, reflecting on the fact that it was Draco Malfoy of all people calling her a spoiled brat. And although as a wealthy young man who could get whatever he wanted, when he wanted, he wasn't an extravagant buyer. She'd heard unfortunate bankrupt stories of people who had unwisely spent their riches on unnecessary and outrageous things. Thank Merlin that wasn't Draco. So he had once told her, he had his home, money, everyday pleasures, and her. It was all he needed. It was all any Malfoy needed.

"Malfoy…" Hermione started slowly, her mind putting bits of random thoughts together. "What would happen to a woman's monetary assets, properties, etcetera after she married a Malfoy?"

Draco glanced at her curiously as his bedroom came to view, but he answered her question nonetheless. "Well, it depends when you're talking about. Since I'm sure you're talking about Amelia, on her parents' death everything they owned would fall into her name – _only_ her name. A Malfoy couldn't get their hands on it legally, but no Lady Malfoy would have a reason to keep her wealth to herself; especially seeing that it would go to her children when she died anyway."

"I don't know. Amelia seemed to have a pretty good reason to make sure Cornelius couldn't get his hands on it. As for her son… Her son didn't get any of it, did he? Malfoy, Amelia never died; she still has it all! Money, homes, whatever her family owned!"

"Wait, wait, Granger, slow your thinking for a second." Draco said as he finally set her down on her feet. "Exactly what are you getting at with all of this?"

"Think about it. Amelia's been alive for more or less three hundred years, and I doubt she's been living in a cardboard box in between husbands." Hermione said excitedly. "So, what happens? Her parents die and leave her everything. She's never died, and so everything under the name Rosée must still belong to her. There's that and then whatever money I'm sure she could siphon off from three _extremely_ wealthy husbands. We have to figure out what properties the Rosée family owned."

Draco was grinning madly at the brilliant woman in front of him. He suddenly grabbed her hand and began tugging her back down the corridor at a hurried pace

"Where are we going _now_?!"

"If there's one thing about a Malfoy, Granger, it's that we keep records of _everything_."

* * *

Draco hadn't lied. Malfoys were meticulous beings and they kept track of any and everything that had to do with them. Back when arranged marriages within the family was the norm, parents of the soon-to-be-wedded children would go over each other's assets to make sure they knew what they were getting into. This wasn't about the children or true love, naturally. It was all about securing wealth through the generations.

Malfoy Manor housed a room where such records were kept. Amelia, however clever she was, didn't think to remove these from the home. Perhaps she didn't even know they were there. Whatever the case had been, Hermione and Draco were reading them hungrily.

"Merlin, how on earth is it possible for one person to own this much money?"

"Rhetorical or would you really like me to answer?"

Hermione resisted the urge to sarcastically respond and plopped her finger down near the end of the page. "There we go. The Rosées owned a mansion in Devon and also a summer home in the south of France."

"Excellent, we'll get Potter to help so we can split the work."

"Good idea. He can take the Devon mansion since he doesn't know a lick of French to get him around."

"Sounds good to me. We should probably tell him to take a couple Aurors with him in case she's there." Draco suggested as he rolled up the parchment and put away the ones they didn't need. "We've seen how Amelia operates, and I doubt she'll hesitate to kill him if she finds an unknown man snooping around her place."

"Agreed," Hermione said, the gravity of the situation hitting her hard. This could be it. They could find Amelia tomorrow, kill her, and then be free from this nightmare. She knew though that the old and experienced witch wouldn't go down without a fight. She had been merciless back in the early 1700s, and she's had a little over three hundred years to perfect her magic. Hermione would daresay that the woman was more volatile than Voldemort himself, and that sent more than chills down her spine.

Hermione had owled Harry that night and told him of their plan. He was right on board and suggested that they check out their respective locations before sunrise with the hopes that if Amelia was there she'd be caught unawares in the throes of sleep. Not to mention it was better to explore unknown territory during the day instead of at night when "everything looked the bloody same." Draco had agreed and urged Hermione to owl the Auror Head for a sick day.

"You don't know what'll happen when we get there." He had said. "It's best if the Ministry doesn't expect you to come in."

Hermione did as he suggested and now she and Draco were tumbling out of Montpellier's main Flooport and among many witches and wizards returning from or partaking in travels. They were heading to Avignon where the Rosée summer home rested. All they had to do was cross a few busy streets in order to make it to the apparation spot Hermione had found on a wizarding tourist map she had come across in the Flooport.

"Damn it!" Hermione shouted as Draco had to pull her back from almost getting run over by a speeding car. Her eyes narrowed at the vehicle but she still yelled after it even though it had long gone. "Ce n'est pas un circuit! Faites attention aux piétons! What?" She asked Draco once she realized that he had been staring.

"Nothing, nothing…" His lips curled up in a smile then. "Just thinking that French might do a better job at getting to me than Italian."

 _Of course that's what he's thinking…_ Hermione scoffed amusingly as they finally got to the apparation spot. Once there, they held onto each other as Draco apparated them to the edges of the Rosée summer home. As they gazed upon the massive home, there was little doubt that someone had lived there over the years. For something that had been around since the early eighteenth century and certainly before that, the home had had a modern reconstruction to it. Granted it was possible that Amelia had sold the home to someone and it no longer belonged to her, but that theory was voided after Harry went beyond the call of duty. He had looked into this and the Devon mansion home to see if any deed transferring had gone on over the years. The Devon home was frequently rented to wealthy individuals for months at a time which lowered the chances of Amelia being there. But since it hadn't been rented in the past six months, Harry went to check it out anyway.

As for the summer home, it hadn't changed hands once nor was it ever rented. As Hermione and Draco grew close they could feel protective charms radiating off of the property and they were surer than ever that this is where Amelia stayed. The question now was how they would get inside.

"Maybe we don't have to." Hermione said. "Besides, these are powerful charms without a doubt. I wouldn't be surprised if her home was filled with traps for any intruder."

"What do you suggest then?" Draco asked, eyeing the summer home wearily.

"We draw her out. At least this way we can fight on an even playing field."

"My Manor, I assume?"

Hermione nodded, but then frowned as she turned to him. "But I have one thing to ask of you."

Draco's brow furrowed. "What's that?"

Hermione took a deep breath and prepared herself for a slew of protestations for what she was about to say. "That you don't be there."

" _ **What?**_ " Draco said with bulged eyes. "Granger, this is the bleeding woman who's killed one of us three times! And you want me to leave you alone with her? The hell I will!"

"Malfoy, I'm sorry, but you _have_ to do this. I know you've gotten better, but-"

" _No_." He growled. "I'm through with you playing the 'you're hurt' card crap with me."

Hermione's eyes flashed angrily and she punched him in the side. Draco's stance faltered and he grunted in pain, holding his side as his face betrayed the amount of agony he was in. "You used to be able to take a punch without doubling over. And until you can do that again you _will_ listen to me, you stubborn arse."

Draco stared at her with hurt and anger in his eyes as he took deep breaths to combat the pain. As he recovered and stood at his full height again Hermione's fierce gaze had softened. She threw her arms around him in a hug and shuddered under his embrace.

"Draco, please do as I say." She said in his ear and didn't fail to miss the flinch that accompanied the mention of his first name. He seemed to hold her tighter after that.

"What if she kills you?"

The reality of it sunk in as he said those words. There were few things she could say to comfort him, but what she did say, despite however morbid, was the best she could find.

"Then I'll see you in my next life."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Oh, that ending! I really felt terrible for them because, well, this is kind of it. They're right on Amelia's trail now and who knows how it's going to end. Guess it's all just a matter of time -three more chapters after this, as a matter of fact (I'm so sad; I loved writing this!).

On another note, yes I know it's Tuesday and not Thursday haha. My work schedule got switched up a little, so I decided to post early :). And, seeing as though the rest of the month is riddled with holidays, I'm going to switch up how I post the last three chapters. Chapter 13 this upcoming Sunday (12/20), and then the last two chapters in the same week (Sun, 12/27 & Tues 12/29).

-WP


	13. Lady Malfoy

Hermione and Draco had split up at the Flooport. Draco went to Harry's house seeing as he had taken the day off as well for this dangerous adventure. He would tell him what was going on and both would be on the alert for any sign from her. "Midnight," he had said before letting the Floo powder fall from his hands. "If we haven't gotten word from you by midnight, I'm coming whether you like it or not." Hermione had agreed and watched as the emerald flames engulfed him.

She knew that Draco had secretly hoped her plan wouldn't work. But after having seen what consistently pushed Amelia over the edge, Hermione had no doubt that the devious message she had carved on the cement pathway that led up to the summer home would enrage the witch to seek her out.

 _Matilda and Cornelius send their love._

 _Sincerely,_

 _The current mudblood resident of Malfoy Manor_

And now Hermione waited. Draco had given her command of the house elves early in the summer, and though she hated to disturb them, she asked for their help this time around. "You know where all the secret passages and tunnels are, yes?" She had asked a group of them. The troop of ten all nodded to confirm. "Good. Close them all. Make sure no one can get in or out."

The house elves all disappeared with the same resounding _pop!_ and left Hermione alone to sit in front of the sole fireplace that she had not cut access to. If Amelia were to come, it would be through here and here alone. Hermione sat with a firm grip on her wand, her eyes never leaving the fireplace. One hour passed. Then another. Her eyes were tired from staring and the eerie silence of the room, but she bit her tongue to give some life to her. It was as the third hour was coming to a close that Hermione heard a bell ringing in the air. It was there to alert those in the Manor that someone was coming by Floo. She suddenly rose to her feet, wand out and ready to defend herself should Amelia come blazing.

Although her wand wasn't firing away any spells, Amelia's eyes were certainly deadly. Hermione took steady, deep breaths as the devil herself exited the grand fireplace looking just as youthful as she did back in 1710. Sharp blue eyes, long wavy black hair, face covered in modest makeup, and clothes worthy of a rich, noble family member. She stared at Hermione harshly although her tone was incongruent.

"You become bolder in every life." Amelia said as she took in her enemy's form, her wand outstretched and pointed at Hermione with hers in the same manner. She huffed. "And what's your name in this one, may I ask?"

"Hermione,"

" _Hermione_ ,"

Amelia took slow steps away from the fireplace while Hermione backed away from the front of the sofa and to its side, so they were now distanced by the lavish piece of furniture. Hermione's eyes gravitated to Amelia's right hand as she spied a ring similar to the one that had very nearly killed both her and Draco. At first she thought it was just for show, but even from where she stood the magic that the ring gave off was staggering. "How can you wear that without it-?"

"Trying to kill me?" Amelia finished. She had known what the "it" was by watching at which angle the audacious witch was staring. She raised her hand to her face and smiled at the expensive piece of jewelry. "My, you do know quite a bit of what's going on, don't you? I made a few modifications to Roland's, my second husband's father, version of the curse to suit my own needs. He was a bit ruthless in the ways he sought to protect his family. He did let me kill his son, after all."

Hermione scoffed. "He was a saint compared to you. You _did_ kill a child, after all."

Amelia smirked at her. "Who says that I did? Despite utterly abhorring half of the boy's lineage, the other half was still Malfoy. I brought him to a friend and made her and her husband swear not to divulge the boy's origin. They kept their word. They named him Phineas, Phineas Nigellus Black. I trust you're familiar with the family name?"

Hermione's face had morphed into one of disbelief. At that Amelia laughed. "Seeing how well the family flourished has not made regret my decision in keeping him alive. Throughout the years, well-spaced out, of course, I made sure to keep up my friendship with the Black family. But I'm sure that this is the least on your list of what you would like to know."

Hermione's eyebrows rose, her hand tightening its grip on her wand. "Who said that I had a list? There's nothing that I want to know about that _you_ of all people would answer."

Amelia was smiling broadly now and she laughed once again. "So you really mean to tell me that after everything that you have obviously found out, you have nothing to ask? Not a single question buzzing inside that curious brain of yours?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet and she swore internally at the fact that Amelia noticed. The age-defying witch began to hum and walk away from her side of the sofa. Hermione's eyes grew in alarm and she prepared herself to attack. Amelia didn't go near her, however. Instead she backed up and walked over to the large table situated behind her and pulled out a chair.

"I know you, mudblood." Amelia said firmly. "You may have a new name and a slightly modified face, but you are still the same. You seek knowledge, equality, and justice. Those qualities have been present in all of your past selves so why not this one? So, let's do this. We'll call a truce. It'll be temporary without a doubt, but a truce nonetheless. You can ask all the questions you wish and I will answer them. Does that sound alright to you?"

Hermione watched as Amelia gently set her wand on the table beside her and sat down, smiling sweetly with her hands cupped on her lap and legs crossed at the ankle. Hermione felt baited. She was being set up by this fiendish woman and was utterly furious with herself that she was taking it. She set her wand on the sofa's cushions but didn't sit. She wanted this to feel like an interrogation, not a friendly conversation.

"Why did you steal the original ring?" Hermione asked. She watched as the woman's eyes danced with amusement and possibly pride.

"I didn't _steal_ the ring, as you so crassly put it." Amelia replied and then gestured to the ring on her finger. "It was in my possession early in my third marriage and put back before it was missed. As I mentioned previously, I made a few alterations on the curse that Roland had casted. I did so that I could keep my distance from the Malfoy men. Vengeance curses are… _tricky_ little things. They're not to be used so freely and always come at a price. I was cursed as well; doomed to fall for a Malfoy every hundred years or so and to be _cheated on_ with the likes of _you_. I knew it would happen again and I'd be damned after my third husband to relive that catastrophe. So, I made...precautions.

'The ring had been kept in a glass case in a treasure room that was rarely entered into. I hadn't intended on keeping it for very long and didn't for the most part. I had simply wanted to procure the same type of band and stone that Julius had worn. That wasn't very hard to get. What proved difficult was getting Roland's curse correctand modifying it appropriately."

Hermione laughed. "Difficult? You cursed a man and woman's lives through the generations!"

"A vengeance curse is much easier than one dealing with blood." Amelia argued. "Vengeance requires very little concentration as all that's needed is anger and the right bit of magic to make it work. What Roland did on the other hand…was magic far more advanced than what I had done. I needed to be careful, and I was."

"Well since you seem to know so much about what Roland did, why can the ring affect me if it's a blood curse?"

Amelia smiled broadly. "Very astute question! It all boils down to the fact that Malfoy men are stubborn mules. There was a chance that the vivid dreams and images wouldn't be enough to deter them from their inappropriate lusts. There was also a chance that they'd realize it was the ring's doing –hence the reason why the ring became encased in a glass home after a while. Roland asked that I acquired some of Giana's blood the night I threw her out of this Manor. Considering that I despised her, it wasn't very hard. With that said, the ring would affect you as well. Next question?"

"The journals," Hermione asked next. "What of the Malfoy journals?"

A coy and innocent smile appeared on Amelia's face as she said this next word. " _Whose?_ "

Hermione had to hold back a snort at the woman's smug attitude and crossed her arms over her chest. "Let's start with Cornelius.'"

"Ah yes… Well, I can't talk about that without discussing my third husband, Orion, and the ring. He was a clear example of a stubborn mule. While for quite some time Malfoy men had been wary of the ring, Orion found it to be too exquisite of an heirloom to be locked away. He began to wear it shortly after I had restored it to its glass home and he paraded it about proudly. He had worn it long after our son had become an adult without a single incident until he had met _her_. Your name was Beatrice back then. Since Orion had been wearing the ring for so long already he didn't think that what was happening to him was because of it.

'Images of Cornelius swarmed him and eventually he took to the journals. _Cornelius_ ," Amelia sneered. "Had always been an artist. Late in his life his interest in drawing intensified and bordered the lines of pathological. Little did I know that he had drawn _me_ and a note to his future descendants of who I was and what I had done. Orion was frantic. He requested my presence to the sanctuary that was the Malfoy Journal Library and confronted me about it. Before he knew it the man was unconscious and having his memory wiped clean. I pocketed the ring, erasing his memory of him wearing it and its effects, and put back the journals."

"And then you gave the ring away to Cygnus Black." Hermione accused. Amelia looked surprised. She clearly hadn't expected for her knowledge of events to go so far. The woman nodded.

"I had to get rid of it somehow and the most opportune moment had arrived. Cygnus came to the Manor in such a terrible rage one day. So it turned out his daughter, Andromeda, had run off to marry a mudblood! As he was leaving I thought to…give him a peace of mind."

"And that cursed ring was a peace of mind?"

Amelia smiled maliciously. "Most definitely. I didn't tell him what the ring did exactly, but the prospect of it teaching his daughter a lesson was enough to interest him. I didn't let him handle the ring, though. Just as it would affect Andromeda, it would affect Cygnus as well. The strength of Malfoy blood due to marriages and what have you would have caused it to dwindle, yes, but the blood was still there. I placed the ring under the floorboard of a shoppe Cygnus had decided he would leave her in his will.

'Now is that all? I've been sitting here very patiently, but I can't help but tell you that I'm absolutely _itching_ to pick up my wand that's just sitting idly by."

Hermione imperceptibly began inching her hand closer to the handle of her wand at the witch's words. "One more question, that's all."

"Go on."

"Did you love them? Any of the Malfoy men that you married, did you _truly_ love any of them at all?"

It was obvious that the question had shocked her. Amelia, the picture of poise and calculating calm, had been caught off guard. Now she stared wide-eyed at the woman whom she hated and was for the first time _really_ thinking over her answer.

"Yes, I did." She answered, her voice less self-assured and cocky. "I loved them all from the deepest depths of me. I know that you doubt me; I can see it in your face. I know what you're thinking. 'If you loved them so much then how could you do what you've done to them?' That's it, isn't it? Well, whether you like the answer or not it's _because_ I loved them that I did what I've done. What would you have done? How would you feel if the love of your life ruined everything that you had by loving someone else?"

Hermione knew it wasn't a rhetorical question and her mind instantly thought of Draco. The physically and, yes surprisingly, personality appealing man that he was could get any woman that he wanted. She'd seen first-hand how other women looked at him, smiled at him, and sometimes "mistakenly" brushed their hands on his arm. It infuriated her then and it did so now as she thought about it.

"It would hurt." Hermione replied. "It would be one of the most devastating things to have happen. But even then I still wouldn't do what you have done. If you love someone you don't hurt them, even if they've hurt you. And _especially_ not in your evil, sadistic ways."

Amelia had stopped looking at Hermione long ago. During the brunette's short tirade she had picked up her wand and was sliding her forefinger and thumb over it gently. "Hmm," She said softly, her thoughts elsewhere and her demeanor going from calm to intensely rigid. "I suppose our definitions of love are different. Oh well,"

Hermione had been ready for when Amelia had slashed her wand forward where she had been sitting on the sofa. She dived away in time as the spell hit the cushions and the entire piece of furniture blew up on the spot. The force of the spell had careened her back onto the stone of the large fireplace but she ignored it. Hermione tossed a spell over her shoulder and bolted for the door, preparing to lead Amelia on a long-winded chase throughout Malfoy Manor. She only hoped that it worked.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, that explains it all folks! Amelia certainly has been busy over the years. To use her words, I've been "itching" to post this chapter FOR SO LONG. Every time one of you posted a theory or asked questions... Finally happy to get it out there :D. And at least you know now that Amelia had 1/8th of a heart and kept Giana and Julius' son alive. I wonder how Giana would feel at seeing how her future children turned out…yikes.

Thanks for reading everyone!

-WP


	14. Fatal Blows

Draco was pacing furiously in front of Harry's fireplace. Each time he made a go-around his eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall and he took note of the time. When he had said midnight, he had meant it. Until then his chest hurt and his eyes pained every time he blinked; though it was just his left eye and it wasn't painful because of his anxiety. It was because the feisty, redheaded woman of the house had punched him in the face the moment she recognized who had come through her fireplace. Leave it to Saint Potter to come to the rescue and restrain his violent wife before she got her hands on her wand and hexed him. After Harry explained what was going on Ginny calmed, and now she watched the blonde wear out her floor.

"If anyone can kill Amelia, it's Hermione." Ginny said suddenly.

Draco halted his pacing and looked at her. "I know."

"And yet you're here walking around as an agitated wreck."

He huffed and began his pacing again, albeit at a slower, less harried pace. "For someone who's supposed to be her good friend you're a calm little ray of sunshine."

Ginny's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll have you know that I'm absolutely panicked."

Draco arched a brow and sucked his teeth. "That's you panicked? Merlin, I'd hate to see you downright petrified."

Ginny growled and stomped her way over to him and stopped his pacing. She jabbed a finger at him and said her words with such finality Draco felt like he was being scolded by his own mother. " _Don't_ go judging me, Malfoy. In fact, take notes. _This_ is how you should be –stoic, calm, and _clear-headed_. Your emotions are running the hell out of you and Hermione doesn't need that right now. She needs you to be ready. She needs for you to be there for her at a moment's notice. You need to be able to take care of her. Is that in _any way_ unclear?"

It didn't take much for Draco to realize that Ginny wasn't just talking about the current situation. He stared at her, realizing just how much she cared for her dear friend. Not to mention being reminded at how crazy she was every time he blinked.

"Hermione doesn't have to worry about me." Draco said. "She doesn't have to worry about anything."

To his surprise the redhead was capable of smiling. "Good to know. Make sure you do just that or I'll have to kill you."

Ginny walked off then, but Draco's eyes didn't follow. His mind was reflecting on their much one-sided conversation and he continued to mull it over as he shouted for Harry. Ginny stared at him in surprise just as Harry hurried into the room.

"What? What is it?"

"We need to go."

Harry's eyes grew in alarm as he watched Draco grab a handful of Floo Powder. "Has Hermione contacted us?"

Draco shook his head and stood in the fireplace, leaving room for Harry to join. "No, but we need to go to her anyway."

"You said midnight! What if by going we're ruining whatever plan she has? We could risk-!"

Draco groaned. "I _know_ the risks, Potter, and I know what I said." His eyes darted to Ginny and he sighed. "But I also said that I would take care of her. So let's get moving."

* * *

Hermione was pushing her body beyond its normal limits as she dashed down corridors. Amelia was barely running, more like walking quickly, as she shot spells, hexes and curses respectively with lazy moves of her wand. Hermione did double time trying to block everything the vengeful woman came at her with. She didn't dare go on the offensive as she knew whatever Amelia would defend with would outmatch hers _easily_. But Hermione didn't need to fight. She just needed to keep herself alive long enough to make it to the guest bedroom of the East Wing.

"I had greater pleasure torturing your other selves, mudblood!" Amelia called.

Hermione grit her teeth as the East Wing came into view. Her feet skidded as she rounded the corner and narrowly missed a curse that began melting the wall where her body had previously been. She ran through the first door on her right and stopped once she was inside. Amelia was right on her trail and Hermione flicked her wand once at the wiring that had been lined along the entire doorframe. The moment Amelia stepped through it was all tripped.

The screams were dreadful no matter who was emitting the glass-shattering sound. Hermione had given one house elf another job aside from sealing the entrances and exits of the Manor. She had asked her to gather as much copper wire as she could find. The elf had done well, and Hermione had placed it along the doorposts and imbued it with a spell to magnify electric conduction. Her wand flick had been a single spark. That spark started a chain reaction through the wires and caused Amelia to feel the strength of at least ten Cruciatus Curses at once. Karma, so Hermione thought, and watched as Amelia dropped to her knees. And although she had expected for the woman to writhe, break a bone or two, or at the very _least_ suffer a massive heart attack, none of those things happened. What happened next was unfathomable.

She laughed.

Amelia's initial screams had somehow morphed into a maniacal fit of laughter as she slowly rose to her feet. Her wand had never left her hand and she swiftly pointed it at the top of the doorframe and severed both it and the wires.

"Cute," Amelia smiled as she stepped further into the room. She then raised her wand hand and twisted it enough so that Hermione could see the glittering jewelry. "Another lovely modification I forgot to mention. It may sting for a moment, whatever you try to fling at me, but the ring will absorb the rest. Aside from your failure, well-played."

Hermione ducked as Amelia went on the attack again and she cursed, wondering how the hell she was going to get that ring from off of her. Although she knew that none of her spells would stick at least they would slow her down. A leg-locker jinx caught Amelia unawares and she tripped over her feet and hit the ground. Hermione attempted to run. She jumped over Amelia's form, but not getting very far as the woman's claw-like hand reached out for her ankle. Hermione was down in no time and she stared wide-eyed as Amelia's wand angled for her face. With a kick from her other leg, Hermione got Amelia in her right shoulder. She grunted in pain and was subject to another harsh kick, this time to her face. A distinct yell escaped Amelia's lips then and Hermione smiled as she was finally released and made her way back down the halls she had just come from.

Hermione should have known that Amelia would have protected the ring from being summoned, but she still tried as she ran down the halls. Her thoughts were running ragged. She had to find a way to pin her down long enough to slip the ring from her. Hell, she'd cut her finger off if it came down to it. In a hasty decision she decided to run towards the study that she had ran from in the first place. It was the first room she could think of that held a treasure-trove of items she could distract the blood-thirsty witch with. Not to mention, if things got bad, it was the only place Hermione could Floo out of.

A loud boom resonated in the hall. Hermione raised her hands to cover her head at the amount of debris that came cascading over her. The dust in the air clouded her vision of the rest of the hall as well as the next rain of marble and stone Amelia's spell hit. The woman's aim was close. _Too close_. Hermione paused her running and spun around, whirling her wand up and around her head so that the large hunks of rock lifted themselves from the ground. Even through the polluted air she could see Amelia's eyes grow wide. The tidal wave of rubble rushed its way towards her and Amelia ducked to her right and pressed herself against the wall to avoid the onslaught. Her eyes were fiendish, but Hermione hadn't stayed to see it. She continued making her way back to the study, but then halted her steps completely in surprise.

"Draco! What the hell are you doing here?!"

Draco ignored her completely, his eyes gravitating to the woman raising her wand towards them at the end of the hall. "Potter, get her out of here!"

"What?" Hermione said in alarm. "What, no!"

Hermione was in the middle of her protest as Draco brandished his wand and Harry's hand grasped her forearm and began tugging her along. "Use the Floo!" He was telling her. "Go to my house and _stay there_!"

"No, Harry! _No!_ You don't understand! Draco can't fight her!"

"It'll be fine, Hermione! He'll-"

" _No, damn it!_ _ **Her ring won't let him!**_ "

Hermione had stomped on Harry's foot to get him to let her go. He yelled and hobbled a bit as she fled his side. She was there in time to see Draco slumped against the wall with a hand to his chest. There wasn't an open wound that Hermione could see and she feared instantly that his heart was giving him trouble. Her rage flared when she saw Amelia standing over him, smiling in a taunting fashion.

" _ **Amelia!**_ " Hermione shouted. The woman turned cold eyes to her and she snarled. "Your fight isn't with him."

"Oh no?" Amelia sneered. "As I recall it, it took _two_ people to commit an affair."

Hermione's heart raced. Draco's eyes were on her now and she prayed desperately that he could see what she was doing imperceptibly with her hands. "Yes, it does. But how quickly do you forget that Malfoy men are, as you put it, _stubborn mules_. How could Draco help himself? How could _any of them_? My ancestors and I lured them away –away from a pristine, pureblooded witch who was truly worthy of the Malfoy name." Hermione chuckled, less than at what she said, but more so at the fact that Draco was now staring intently at Amelia's hand. "I can see now why you're so upset."

Amelia shouted in anger and flared her wand. The next few moments happened so quickly that Hermione barely had any time to register them. She saw Draco reach up and grab hold of Amelia's wrist, wrestling the ring off of her finger. The woman pushed him away from her forcefully, gathered her fallen wand due to their struggle, and slashed her wand in the air in a diagonal from top right to bottom left. Hermione had said her first Unforgivable Curse and watched the green light leave her wand and hit Amelia squarely in the chest. As the witch fell, Hermione felt a wound open up from the top of her ribcage on her left side and down to her right hip. Amelia hit the ground with a thud just as Hermione fell back into Harry's open arms.

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted as he held her under the arms. They both fell down together, her upper body was resting on his sprawled legs. "Hermione! Hermione, look at me! Malfoy, we need to get her out of here; she's losing too much blood!"

Hermione didn't hear Draco's hurried footsteps running down the corridor nor his frantic voice as he kneeled down next to her. She couldn't _feel_ anything either, but only knew her love was holding her hand because Harry ordered him to let go and help get her to the fireplace. Had she the capacity to move her mouth or throat she would've laughed. It was one thing to die in a vision, but another thing to die in real life. The only satisfaction that she had was that in her next one, she and Draco would only have to combat their attitudes and contradicting personalities in order to be together.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, Amelia's dead, but at what price? That's all I have to say about this chapter as it speaks for itself. The next chapter is the last and I just have to say THANK YOU for sticking with me throughout this story :)

-WP


	15. A Curse's End

Draco didn't want to talk. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to _think_. But no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind he simply couldn't get the image of Hermione getting slashed by that vindictive witch out of his thoughts.

It had happened so fast. Draco fought the pain in his chest from all of his physical exertion and scrambled to his feet. By the time he had reached Hermione's side the pain he was feeling had steadied itself over his heart. The charms had broken. He could feel vulnerability living under his skin and staring at the blood flowing freely from his girlfriend's stomach didn't help any. Draco pushed away all of his internal agony –both physically and emotionally –and helped Harry take Hermione to the fireplace and bring her to St. Mungo's.

Both men followed the Healers down the corridors and to the emergency room. It was there that it took less than two minutes to declare Hermione dead. The wound was too deep and there had been too much blood loss. Harry's face had drained of all color and he looked sick. Draco felt weak all over, but before any of the Healers could cover her face with the dreaded white sheet and close her eyes his words stopped them all.

"Try again."

All of the Healers stared at him in confusion as though he spoke an unknown tongue. Only one of the Healers dared to speak and even then it was with a tremble to his voice. "I –I'm _sorry_ , Mr. Malfoy, but she's-"

" _ **Did you hear what I said?**_ " Draco snarled at them all. He drew his wand and took turns pointing it at each of the four Healers in the room. " _ **Try again. DO IT!**_ "

Harry stared at the man with wide eyes and then at the Healers bustling about. They knew the better option was to work on Hermione or face a serious hexing from Draco. And so they worked. The Healers threw various, fearful glances at Draco and pleading stares at Harry to call off the potential attack. Harry on the other hand didn't move to do anything. What if they could do it? What if they could bring her back? It was the only reason he allowed Draco to stand there at his side, his wand raised and ready if anyone dared to stop with the potions or the spells.

One minute passed.

Then three.

A full five minutes went by and Draco's hand began to tremble. Fresh tears started to prickle and sting his eyes as ten minutes came to a close. With a stiff hand Harry brought it to Draco's wand arm and slowly lowered it. A second later the wand fell from his hand completely as he tightly grabbed his left arm. Harry stared at him frightfully.

"Malfoy? Malfoy, what's wrong?"

"Potter," Draco gritted through his teeth. He moved his hand away from his arm and then over his chest. He would collapse at any minute. "I… I think I'm having a heart attack."

"Help him!" Harry shouted to the Healers who hadn't realized that Draco's wand was no longer on them. "Help him! His heart is failing!"

Healers immediately stopped tending to Hermione and ushered Draco onto the other bed next to Hermione's. Through clenched teeth he told them about the barriers around his heart that he knew had broken. They didn't have time to open his chest and so they did what they could with spells that could permeate the skin and bone. As Draco lay there he could feel himself dying. He turned his head as best as he could so that he could take in as much of Hermione's form before he couldn't see anymore. And with the little strength that he had he reached out for her hand, figuring that he if was going die that he wanted to do it with her.

As Draco closed his eyes and waited to find out what death actually felt like, he could feel the spells doing their work. The barriers that he hadn't missed until they were gone were being put back in place despite the layer of skin and bone they had to work through. Something else was happening too, but Draco refused to open his eyes in case it was all a dream. The cry of a Healer and Harry's gasp was telling him otherwise.

This was the one and only time that Draco had ever cried. He could feel Hermione's hand moving in his. He heard another Healer calling for others to get into the room to help stabilize her while they finished working on him. He couldn't believe it. He just _couldn't_ believe it. If his chest didn't still hurt he would've laughed. Even death couldn't separate them.

And that's exactly what he told Hermione when she opened her eyes three and a half days later. She had been surprised when she first heard his voice, and then she was confused as to why he was lying in a hospital bed next to hers. Draco merely pulled down his dressing gown enough to show the bandages over his chest. Although Healers had done wonders with his heart, they weren't taking any chances. They'd done surgery on him that very night to ensure the barriers were properly in place and added an extra layer of protection.

"And that's why I told you not to come!" Hermione hissed at him, careful not to move too much. Draco chuckled and stared at her tenderly.

"Even after all that we've been through, you're still going to be angry with me?" Draco laughed this time and sighed. "I love you, you know that?"

Hermione felt herself grow red. Of all the people she thought would be saying that they loved her, it wouldn't have been Draco Malfoy. And here he was, his hospital bed pushed close to her own than was usually permitted by St. Mungo's staff, caressing her hand, and looking at her like she was the dearest thing to him in the world.

She smiled. "You'd have to love me a lot to risk your health like that. Stubborn arse,"

" _Your_ stubborn arse," Draco corrected as he leaned forward as much as his pained body could allow and kissed her. Yes, he did love her a lot.

* * *

 **November 2009**

Trying to explain who Amelia was and why she was dead had proved to be difficult, albeit not impossible, to a stunned Minister. Luckily, being familiar to Harry's past exploits made him susceptible to the otherwise incredible. While Hermione and Draco continued to recover in St. Mungo's, Kingsley and Harry had worked hard to dispel many of the rumors circulating as to why they were so seriously injured and to keep Daily Prophet reporters away from the hospital and their respective homes.

In the interim, some mysteries of the elusive Lady Malfoy had come to light. It all began when a horde of letters as well as in-person visits to the Auror Department and St. Mungo's came rushing in all at once. They all pertained to symptoms of confusion and the surety that both their lives and their free will had been tampered with. It didn't take much investigating to figure out that this was Amelia's handiwork. There was no way for her to remain undetected for so many years, _centuries_ , without some form of help, and that help came in the form of memory charms and the Imperious Curse. The amount of people her wand had touched was insurmountable. Members of the Lovell family were among them, for starters –all of whom claiming their memories had been tampered with to include a young woman as their own. The Imperious Curse had been used on those in the Ministry –Records Department to be more exact –to rid of any record pertaining to Amelia. Indeed, she had been quite the busy witch.

That wasn't all of the grunt work that Harry and Kingsley did on behalf of Hermione and Draco while they were under strict orders not to do anything strenuous. Per Draco's orders, they burned Amelia's body. He couldn't live knowing that her body was fully intact and wanted it turned to ash. Said ashes were burned again until there was nothing left. As for the rings, the formerly cursed pair refused to touch them. Instead Harry took them personally -careful not to directly touch them. A favor allowed the sword of Gryffindor to leave its home in Hogwarts, and the moment it arrived via Floo and in the school's Headmistress' hand, Harry smiled. McGonnagall didn't ask why he needed it, nor did she inquire as to why one of her favorite students had taken the sword in his hands and stared down at two seemingly harmless rings with a scowl. The two rings were gone from existence as easily as they had come the moment Harry swung down the blade.

As for Hermione and Draco themselves, they had been given leave from Kingsley for the rest of the year. They had happily spent it in Draco's bedroom, curled up in one another with (much to Hermione's displeasure) the Manor's house elves at their beck and call. When they had finally returned to work towards the end of February of the next year, both of them had realized that being cursed had played a central role in their lives. Draco wasn't as adept at sensing cursed objects as he used to be. As for Hermione, she couldn't venture into the Lockdown Room without feeling sick. Being cursed had not only protected them from certain magic, but it had also made them proficient in seeking it out. Knowing this didn't stop them from doing their jobs, however. Hermione simply employed a layer of shield magic to stop her from falling ill, and Draco endured taunts from his coworkers at finally succumbing to the use of magical glove wear.

And now four years later Hermione was somewhere that she had hoped she would never be again: the hospital.

Although she had vowed never to step foot in a hospital ever again after the whole Amelia ordeal, this was an exception. Hermione had to give credit to where credit was due as Draco didn't pass out as she thought he would have. He came close though, she knew. The moment Healer Hobs told her it was time to start pushing and he had taken a peek at what the hell was happening, Draco's face was positively petrified. Her bone-chilling scream and the crushing of his hand brought him back though, and he kept his face focused on hers through rest of it.

Two days. Hermione had been in labor for _two days_ all the while growling obscenities at him and then apologizing shortly after. That Draco hadn't minded too much since she yelled at him at least twice a day at home. It was pretty much the same except for the crazy tight grip and the excessive crying. Eventually though, Draco heard crying that didn't belong to his wife. Healer Hobs was smiling and as he raised a small baby up for them to see.

"Here's your little boy!" Healer Hobs grinned. Draco would've been the third person to cry in the room had Hermione's smile not been short-lived and she started screaming again. The Healer handed off their son to one of the other Healers in the room as he attended to Hermione yet again. A minute or so later there was another sound of a baby screeching in the room, and Draco laid eyes on his daughter.

Hermione's tears were nothing short of joy. Her children were almost as she imagined they'd look like when they were born. Instead of the full-on Malfoy blonde hair, it was tainted with her brown. They had Draco's eyes, though, and they shined beautifully. All in all they were lovely. Both babies were placed in Hermione's arms and she could barely see them with how much tears were springing from her eyes. Draco stared at the scene completely in disbelief. It was one thing to find out you were going to be a father, but to find out that you were having not one, but _two_ children at once was mind-blowing. And then to finally have them right in front of you, that was something else entirely.

Sometimes the events of Hermione and Draco's lives that led up to this moment were hard to believe. They had gone from spiteful enemies to coworkers who enjoyed a good sarcastic remark and making the other feel either incompetent or uncomfortable. From there they were simply a coworker helping another coworker with a cursed ring only to find out that they were cursed as well. Vivid dreams, a vengeful witch, and death is what brought them together. And despite how chaotic their lives were with one another, they were _still_ _together_. They were always meant to be together, and now that they had each other they would never be without one another again.

"What will you name them?" Healer Hobs asked the new parents. Hermione and Draco looked at each other and grinned. It had been a conversation that they had only needed to have once, and the names they had chosen were perfect.

"Cornelius Julius Orion-"

"Matilda Giana Beatrice-"

"Malfoy," Hermione and Draco said together, smiling when their children smiled too.

* * *

 **Author's note:** That's the end everyone! Amelia's finally out of the picture, the rings are gone, all questions are answered, and Hermione and Draco finally get to have their happily ever after. If they didn't get it then I think that'd be pretty mean of me haha.

Thank you SO MUCH for everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following. Every form of support has been great and it was a pleasure to bring this story to you guys :). I'm going to be taking a small hiatus from posting for a bit (probably just the month of January) so I can concentrate on just writing. My profile will have updates on what I'm working on/when I think something new will be out.

Once again, thanks! And an early Happy New Year to everyone :D

-WP


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